


Forced Perspective

by thecopperriver



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: (again not between Kylo or Hux), (it's not Kylo or Hux), Aftercare, Angry Sex, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Chains, Character Death, Choking, Dehumanization, Dirty Talk, Dominant Hux, Humiliation, Hux is Not Nice, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Rope Bondage, Slave Armitage Hux, Slavery, beforecare?, mentions of corporal punishment, not TLJ compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-01 20:38:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8637298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecopperriver/pseuds/thecopperriver
Summary: While he expects to see the same look of almost parental disappointment Snoke has worn since his return to the Citadel, Kylo is shocked when he dares to look at his Master’s face.  The elder Force user is wearing a faint smile, the kind that sends chills up Kylo’s spine every time.  It always means something very good, or very bad.  Sometimes both.After Starkiller's destruction, Hux is left to take the blame.  Being enslaved to Kylo Ren gives him an entirely new perspective on what the First Order is really like.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The art in this chapter was done by the astoundingly talented [first-disorder](http://first-disorder.tumblr.com) on tumblr. They were a pleasure to work with.

Kylo drags himself into the echoing cavern which is Snoke’s audience chamber at the Citadel, for once pleased that his Master expects him to kneel.  Recent training has so beaten him down that it’s a struggle to stand on bruised and tattered legs, his lungs burning with every heaving gulp of air.  He’s expecting yet another brutal training regimen to be handed down as penance for his failure on Starkiller.  The past eight? ten? months have been nothing but.

_ “No.  Master is just.  He’s right to punish me for my failures, I deserve worse than he’s dealt me for the loss of the First Order’s superweapon.  For the death of Han Solo failing to kill the Light inside me.” _

While he expects to see the same look of almost parental disappointment Snoke has worn since his return to the Citadel, Kylo is shocked when he dares to look at his Master’s face.  The elder Force user is wearing a faint smile, the kind that sends chills up Kylo’s spine every time.  It always means something very good, or very bad.  Sometimes both.

“Stand, my apprentice.  You have done well in these past months, and so I have a gift for you, for completing your training.”

Purring praise, the same insidious whisper which had drawn him away from his family into the Dark.  The acknowledgement gives Kylo enough to turn his pain into strength, drawing himself up straight to stand before his Master proudly.

“Truly?  I’ve completed my training at last?”  He struggles to keep his boyish pride from showing on his unconcealed face.  Perhaps Snoke will reward him with a new mask before he goes out to end Skywalker and his Jedi forever.

“You are now truly the  _ Master  _ of the Knights of Ren.  While I will continue helping you refine your powers and give you direction, there is nothing left for me to teach.  And as I have asked you to refrain from indulging in many pleasures during this phase of your training, my gift is a reminder that nothing is  _ truly _ forbidden to those who follow the Dark.”

Now entirely puzzled, Kylo has no idea what is going to occur.  It’s certainly not for Snoke to gesture expectantly.  Whatever is supposed to happen, he waits in eager anticipation, but nothing appears.

“Ohhh…” Snoke rasps, all good humour vanished from his voice, “so you would like to choose the other option after all.”  He doesn’t seem to be talking to Kylo…  “No?  Then come here.”

A resigned sigh followed by heavy clinking can be heard from the shadows before a tall figure steps into the small pool of light in the chamber.

And Kylo’s jaw drops, because the man that’s revealed is stunning.  Tall, lean muscle on a narrow frame, probably only a little shorter than him. (Just the right height to kiss).  The man is dressed only in translucent black fabric that’s barely a skirt, reaching to his ankles but  _ just  _ clinging to his hips by intricately wrought red-gold chains.  Similar chains run between the cuffs on his ankles, and down from the collar at his neck.  Draping down his chest are a wealth of thinner chains of varying lengths, accentuating his lean form and the grace with which he moves.  But past his first impression, there’s something incredibly familiar about the apparent slave.  But the only person Kylo’s bedded recently has been…

Shocked, his eyes finally snap up to meet Hux’s furious and humiliated pale jade gaze.  Why is the General here?  And dressed like a Hutt pleasure slave at that?

Despite his outlandish garb, Hux still stands as proudly as if he were on the bridge of the Finalizer.  It’s only when Kylo sees the cuffs binding Hux’s arms that he realizes the man isn’t simply standing at parade rest, as is his habit.  And Hux would never willingly go anywhere with his hair so artfully dishevelled.

Despite the arousing sight (are Hux’s nipples pierced?), Kylo can only feel bewildered as he turns back to the Supreme Leader. 

“Hux is my gift?  But I thought he’d been sent back to rally the fleet after he delivered me here.”

“He was.”  Snoke leans back in his throne, pleased.  “I gave the General until you completed your training to make up for failing to destroy the Resistance before they triggered Starkiller’s collapse.  I had always intended to gift him to you if he pleased me.  Failure on such a magnitude must be made an example of.  Had he not been successful in recovering after the loss… your Knights would have had a practice dummy, for however long he lasted.”

The Leader turns to view Hux with a critical eye, under which the bright copper head bows in resignation.  “A fate which he has not entirely escaped, should he not prove an obedient slave.”

Part of Kylo just can’t process the idea of the proud General as a slave.  Not the only man who’d been unafraid in the face of his mask, even with his saber ignited and spitting in his hand.  Not the man who had dared question Snoke’s plans when he thought he had a better option.  He shoves that all down deep, knowing that Hux’s fate is a delicate one.  His Master would not take well to Kylo’s dubious thoughts.

Instead he strides forward and takes hold of the chain hanging from Hux’s collar.  It’s not hard to pull his feelings of lust and dominance to the forefront.  Much of Kylo is quite pleased to have the redhead at his mercy, given their years of friction as co-commanders and Snoke’s commandment not to harm the General or rifle through his thoughts.

“Thank you, Master.”  Kylo bites his lip as he glances at Hux sidelong.  “I’m sure I’ll make good use of your gift.”

He can see Hux draw breath to protest, but he glances up at Snoke and deflates.  Kylo tries not to feel sick that the fiery Hux can’t even muster a sneer in the face of whatever consequences the Supreme Leader has promised.

Snoke smiles indulgently at Kylo.  “I am pleased.  I will not delay you any longer.  One of your Knights is waiting with a shuttle prepared to fly you to the  _ Obliterator _ .  I have decided that more of the First Order fleet must see your power firsthand.”

Kylo turns to leave, trailing a reluctant Hux at the end of his leash, slowing when the redhead stumbles over the chain hobbling him.  He’s at the door when Snoke speaks once again.

“Oh, and do tell me if the slave proves...defective.”

It’s a threat for them both, and Kylo can tell Hux knows it from the way he feels him stiffen.

As promised, the Rogue is waiting in a short-range shuttle in the Citadel’s hangar.  They take off smoothly and set a course before turning to give a brief salute to Kylo.

“I see you’re pleased with your gift, Master Kylo.”  He can feel their pleasure and amusement saturate the air around them.  “The Leader had me prepare him for you and I must say, if I was inclined that way, I’d be asking to borrow him.”

They must feel the possessive rage that wells up in response to the casual statement, for the Rogue waves their hands in defensive denial.  “No, no!  I said  _ ‘if’ _ .  You, slave, did I touch you beyond what was necessary?”

“No.”  Kylo’s head whips around to watch Hux speak, the first time he’s heard him since half-remembered moments on the shuttle off Starkiller.  He sees a flash of metal in Hux’s open mouth, something he’ll have to investigate.  “You were very...professional.”

Hux’s voice is hoarse, like maybe he didn’t entirely escape the torment Snoke promised him.  Aside from those few words, he remains silent for the flight.

Not that it’s particularly long.  Evidently Snoke had summoned the  _ Obliterator _ into orbit to receive Kylo once he completed his training.  The Rogue touches the shuttle down deftly in the landing bay just before the contingent waiting to receive them.  

It’s much like the first time Kylo had set foot on the  _ Finalizer _ .  Four squads of Stormtroopers are lined up neatly as an honour guard for the ranking officer.  Only this time, Hux is no longer that officer, stripped of his rank and trailing Kylo wearing chains.  He can tell when those on deck recognize him, ‘Troopers stiffening with an indrawn breath, and a sneer twisting the Admiral’s face unpleasantly.  Hux is held in almost universal high regard by the ‘Troopers and lower ranking officers, Kylo knows, but others viewed him as an upstart or a threat.

Without his mask, it takes more effort to compose his features.  It’s a tradeoff with the fear Kylo inspires in the Admiral when he storms off the shuttle with a scowl.  At least the scar tempers his boyish appearance.

“Admiral Woyzec,” the man makes an effort to steel himself, but isn’t nearly as adept as Hux had been even that first time with concealing his feelings in the Force.  “Welcome aboard the  _ Obliterator _ , Master Ren.”  He offers his hand to shake, but Kylo merely eyes it with disdain until he lets it drop.  

“I’ll have the ‘Troopers bring your effects to your quarters.  Is there anything else you’ll require?”

Two ‘Troopers bustle past Kylo and Hux to retrieve his belongings from the shuttle.  In truth, Kylo has no idea what they contain, but Snoke has always provided for him in the past.  Perhaps this time they have things for Hux as well.  More than just two panels of fabric masquerading as a skirt.

With Kylo’s attention only slightly distracted, the sneer has overtaken the Admiral’s face again.  He reaches out with the Force, brushing up against the Admiral’s thoughts.  His feedback shows a strong feeling of hatred directed towards Hux as well as pleasure to see him in such an undignified position.  If he thinks he can get away with it, the man will hurt Hux as often as he has opportunity.

“Since you’ve mentioned it, Admiral, there is one thing you can do for me.”

“Yes, Master Ren?”

“I would like you to make it clear to everyone aboard that Hux is  _ mine _ .  Should I find that anyone has laid a hand on him, or even insulted him, they will suffer for it.  I don’t take interference with things that belong to me lightly, is that clear?”  As he speaks, Kylo directs a niggle of fear into the primitive hindbrain of everyone listening.  The Admiral bears the brunt of it however, paling and beginning to sweat, gulping nervously as he eyes Kylo as if he might be devoured.

[I don’t think much of this weak-minded Admiral,] he sends to Hux almost without realizing, their occasional habit during particularly dull meetings or First Order functions.  He’s not sure if Hux even hears him, the redhead’s mind as locked down as he’s ever felt it.  All he can sense is something roiling under the icy surface, searching for a way to unleash itself.

“Sir!”  A clipped voice from under a white helmet draws his attention away from what it could be.  “SR-7059, sir!  If you would follow me, I will escort you to your quarters.”

Kylo follows her through the miles of identical corridors characteristic of Star Destroyers, Hux an almost silent shadow in his wake.  It’s a relief when he feels the ship make the jump to hyperspace, out of the reach of his Master.  At least until he figures out how he feels about Hux being his slave, he’ll keep his distance from the Leader.

That silence changes as soon as they’re in their assigned rooms.  Before Kylo can even take the measure of them, Hux’s smaller body is bulling him into a wall, pinning him there through the strength that fury has granted his wiry frame.

“Did you ask for this?” Hux snarls in his face, jade green eyes frozen with rage. 

“W-wh-what?”

“Did you ask your Master for this fracking humiliation?  Did you want him to enslave me, to hand me over like a kriffing  _ toy?” _

“Hux, no!  I would never...”  Horrified that Hux could think such a thing, Kylo tries to push him away, but he’s slammed back before he can get more than a few inches between them.  “I had no idea my Master was going to do  _ anything _ like that until you stepped out of the shadows.  But I couldn’t exactly say I didn’t want you, not if I didn’t want you handed to someone else.”

“Then  _ prove _ it,” Hux snaps back.

“How?”

“Take these chains off me.  Kneel, and show me you’ll still be my _ good boy _ .”  Hux almost purrs the last words, making Kylo weak in the knees.  They hadn’t played at power dynamics much in bed, but every time he let Hux dominate him - oh, it was  _ so good _ .  Before he gives his hands permission, they’re fumbling at the cuffs around Hux’s wrists, searching for some kind of locking mechanism.  He almost panics when he can’t find one.  Surely Snoke didn’t mean for Hux to be stuck like this forever?

Hux snorts, reading the fear in Kylo’s face.  “They’re Force activated.  He wanted to make sure only you or your merry little band of misfits could free me.”

When he probes at them with the Force, Kylo can feel the locking mechanisms perfectly.  They’re almost ordinary locks, if you ignore the lack of keyhole.  But when he manipulates the Force to open them, he can feel a warning in the back of his mind.   _ “If you take these off, Snoke will know.” _  Instead of reaching for the locks of the cuffs themselves, Kylo unlatches the mechanism that holds the cuffs together.  A similar manipulation, and the chains are falling away from ankle shackles and collar as well.

“If you want me to kneel,” Kylo says, before Hux can protest the selective removal, “you’ll have to step back a bit.”

Full lips turn down at one corner in displeasure, but Hux relents.  A few steps away and Kylo sinks to his knees.  No longer so rigidly controlled, he can feel a wash of Hux’s pleasure at the sight.  More than that, he can see Hux’s blown pupils, barely a ring of vivid green around the black.  A flickering glance down is surprised that he can’t see Hux’s hardness tenting the flimsy fabric.  But perhaps they aren’t far enough along yet for that.  The kind of fury Hux has been harboring isn’t particularly conducive to arousal.

Knowing it always pleases the redhead, Kylo strips off the top of his robes, folding his wrists at the small of his back and looking up through his lashes.  “Please, Hux, what should I do?”

“You want to be a good boy for me?”

Kylo nods eagerly.

Hux slinks forward, shedding the delicate chains from around his neck, mussing his hair further as he pulls them off.  One long-fingered hand trails along Kylo’s collarbone and over his shoulder blades as Hux walks around him, making him shudder from the pleasurable touch.  He hasn’t been touched gently since Starkiller.

Just as he’s leaning into Hux’s hand, sighing happily, Hux shoves him brutally forward.  He only just manages to catch himself before his nose connects with the floor.  “Hux, what?”  He looks up, wounded and confused.

“Shall I show you what  _ else _ your Master decided you should have to control me?”  His voice is venomous.

Kylo tilts his head in confusion, a lock of hair falling across his eye.  He watches closely as Hux’s clever fingers find a hidden catch in the chains at his waist.  He gives Kylo a considering look before allowing the sparse garment to fall away.

Immediately, he can see why Hux is furious.  Keeping his pretty cock from getting hard is a cage in the same red-gold as the rest of his chains.  Snoke had truly taken every measure to tame and humiliate the former General and make his new position clear.  Kylo reaches out with the Force, and finds the lock the same as the others.  Some precise manipulation and the cage is falling away.

With a wicked grin, Hux eyes it and kicks the cage away to skitter under the sofa.  “Good boy.”  

[ ](http://thecopperriver.tumblr.com/image/170762190873)

* * *

Kylo gets a little harder, straining a little more against his leggings every time Hux praises him.  He resumes his kneeling, submissive posture as Hux’s long fingers rake through his hair.

Now that Hux’s rage has dimmed, he can feel the redhead’s eyes truly taking in his battered state.  Crouched in front of Kylo, the soft pads of Hux’s fingers skate lightly over the bruises and cuts spread liberally across his pale skin.  “What has Snoke done to you?” Hux whispers.

“Only what I deserved,” Kylo ducks his head further as he responds.  “My Master was forced to beat my weakness from me when I couldn’t do so myself.  He was gracious enough to complete my training in spite of my failure.”

Gentle fingers grasp his chin and tilt his head up to meet luminous green eyes.  Hux opens his mouth to say something, and then sighs and shakes his head.  Kylo knows it’s probably something to do with Snoke’s methods of training and punishment, they’ve had this argument before.  “Do you know if you have a med kit around?  I can’t fuck you properly if I’m worried about you bleeding all over the bed.”

Despite his dismissive words, he can sense Hux’s concern for his safety.  When the General had started to bed him and learned of his tendency to treat his own wounds, ignoring most as beneath his notice, Hux had insisted on taking over his medical care.  A fully stocked med kit ‘mysteriously’ appeared in Kylo’s fresher a few days later and was replenished regularly.

“I don’t know.”

Hux huffs and pushes himself to his feet.  Kylo watches him pace gracefully to the fresher, completely unselfconscious of his nudity.  He envies Hux that, never quite feeling at home in his own skin.  The lean body isn’t as scarred as his own, though there’s some marring Hux’s smooth skin that he’s not familiar with.  Perhaps Snoke had him for longer than Kylo had thought.

After a few curses and some clunking sounds, Hux emerges from the fresher with a med kit in hand.  Raking his hair back from his face irritably, he shakes his head.  “I don’t know what kind of incompetent fool decided the med kit needed to be in storage with replacement parts for the sonic shower, but it seems fully stocked.”

The red-gold cuffs gleaming at throat, wrists, and ankles don’t diminish him in any way as he commands, “get on the bed.  Leggings and boots off first, and then kneel in the centre.”

Kylo scrambles to obey.  He hears Hux snort a laugh as he almost trips while peeling the tight hide leggings away, but he just wants Hux’s hands on him again.  However he can get them.  He’d let Hux fuck him right now if he wanted to, injuries be damned.

Instead, the redhead settles on the bed next to him.  Deft hands open the med kit as Hux asks, “do any of those wounds need sutures?”

Probing his injuries with the Force, Kylo’s relieved to be able to answer, “no.”  At least none that haven’t already healed past that stage.  _  “I probably shouldn’t tell Hux about all the ones that  _ would _ have needed stitching.”   _ It always makes Hux upset when Kylo doesn’t get himself seen to, though he still doesn’t quite understand why.  He always heals in the end, and Snoke says that pain should help him harness the Force.  If it doesn’t, well, that’s his own fault for not banishing the Light.

“My last round of training was more tiring than painful,” Kylo says instead, hoping to placate Hux.  It doesn’t really work, as Hux huffs disbelievingly, but he gets to work with the bacta cream without saying anything else.  He’s so careful as he works the cream into scabbed over cuts, fingers soft from a lifetime wearing leather gloves.  It’s hard to believe that he’d been furious at Kylo only minutes earlier, and prepared to hurt him for it.

Kylo shuts his eyes as he leans into Hux’s gentle touch.  He’s trying to contain all his whimpers of pleasure deep inside his chest, but he’s sure Hux is hearing them escape past his lips anyways.  At least today the redhead isn’t comparing him to a beaten dog.  Kylo takes a deep breath of contentment, and then sneezes when he gets a noseful of the unpleasant musty, medicinal smell of bacta.

Hux’s low chuckle at the explosive noise makes him smile.  “Almost done your torso at least.  What about your legs?”

For answer, Kylo stretches out his legs, in tatters from wading through the claw vines that were part of his last task.

Looking down on them, Hux sighs.  “On your feet then.”

He’s quick to comply.  With Hux kneeling at his feet, he should feel the power over his slave that Snoke intended.  But he feels like the weaker one in this situation.  Hux is tending his injuries of his own will after all, and Kylo will happily submit to him after.  His touch has kept Kylo half-hard the whole time, knowing what else his long, clever fingers are good for.

One last scrape, and Hux is sealing the much-diminished jar of cream, exchanging it for a tube of bruise balm.  A sharp mint scent fills the air as he squeezes the first measure onto his fingers.  Kylo welcomes the astringent sting as it’s smoothed over the fist-sized bruise on his calf, knowing his bruises will fade much more quickly than they would have.

“Thank you, Hux,” he says quietly as he buries his fingers in soft red hair.  “I’ve missed this.”

The General sighs as he cocks his head to the side, glancing up at Kylo under his fringe.  “For the past eleven months, I’ve been cursing you inside my head.  Snoke told me about my punishment before I left, let me think you had a part in devising it.  I never quite did manage to convince myself to hate you though.”  The corner of his mouth quirks in a rueful grin.  “It’s probably best you weren’t on ship.  I had a hard enough balancing act without justifying the ridiculous amount of repairs your presence requires.”

“I don’t understand.  Why would Snoke tell you?  What benefit could there be to you hating me?”

“To ensure we’re loyal only to him?” Hux shrugs.  “If we were to work together, we could be a threat to his power.  But if I resent you, and you go back to feeling superior to me…  I’m not sure what his goals truly are.  As for why he told me, insurance that I would do my best work.  I can admit, in the wake of Starkiller’s firing, I had some doubts about our course.  I am loyal to the Order, but did we best serve our cause by creating terror and hatred?”

Kylo isn’t sure how to respond to that.  He latches on to one part of what Hux has said to cloud out the rest.  “I’m a little surprised you didn’t run.  I might have, if told that my ‘reward’ was slavery and the only other option was a painful death.”

The laugh that Hux doesn’t seem able to help holds nothing of humour.  “Ren...I’m ‘General Starkiller’.  Do you really think there’s anywhere in the galaxy I could find refuge?  At least with you - you’re predictable, and you don’t tend to permanently damage those under your command, even when furious.”

It’s a bleak assessment, and something in Kylo aches that the brilliant General is reduced to considering slavery to a man he’d once hated as the best outcome.  It goes against everything he knows to criticize his Master, but this seems like a terrible waste of resources.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex takes an unexpectedly sweet turn. Hux didn't know he was capable of such care and gentleness.

Rubbing bruise balm into the last of Ren’s colourful contusions, Hux feels some of the brutal tension he’s carried since  _ Starkiller _ ’s loss drain away at last.  If he ignores the metal bands at wrists, ankles, and throat, this could be any other night on the  _ Finalizer _ .  When had he last permitted himself to relax?  He hadn’t so much as taken himself in hand since leaving Ren at the Citadel, every waking moment consumed with strategy, trying to keep the threat of Snoke’s Knights at bay.  Most nights it was all he could do to strip off his uniform before collapsing nude into bed.  Only to wake up far too few hours later and repeat it all again.

Having Ren warm and willing before him is better than anything he could have dreamed in those exhausting, lonely days.

All his tension boils over at once.  Hux casts aside thoughts the possible consequences, the bruise balm falling to the floor as he stands to pull Ren into a fierce kiss.  The coppery telltale of blood taints the first few clashes, a gash in Ren’s lip reopened on Hux’s canine.  It reminds him to take things more slowly.

Ren whines into his mouth as Hux’s gentles the kiss, teasing him with light brushes of tongue and nips to his full bottom lip.  Eager, he tries to push Hux back into a bruising kiss.  About to respond in kind, something in Hux hesitates.  He doesn’t want that.  Not now...  A firm hand twisted in Ren’s thick locks is enough to remind him who’s leading this dance.  He can feel the shudder ripple through the Knight at his slight show of dominance.

Ren does so love having the need to  _ choose _ stripped from him.

“What do you think is in those crates?” Hux pulls away to mutter as he traces kisses down Ren’s graceful neck.  The tilt of Ren’s head speaks of confusion even as he opens himself to Hux.  “Perhaps Snoke gave us some rope to play with.”

“Please,” Ren’s breathy whisper lances a bolt of lightning down his spine, heat pooling in his groin.  Behind him, the rattling of the boxes mentioned betrays a loss of control on Ren’s part.

A last kiss dropped on Ren’s lips and Hux slinks across the floor to investigate what Snoke had left them with.  Knowing the other man is watching avidly, he makes a bit of a show of his movements.  Exaggerates the sway of his hips.  The creaking of the bedsprings betrays Ren, shifting as though he’s about to follow.  

“Stay there.”  The command, tossed over his shoulder, has Ren scrambling to resume his kneeling position on the bed.

Pulling the first crate opens sends all the pleasant heat curdling, chilling as his gut plummets.  At the very top are more wispy slave garments.  Clearly intended for him.  It’s an effort of will to push them aside and keep searching.  Fortunately he only has to brush aside a few more flimsy pieces of cloth to uncover a sizeable pile of rope.  How had it been expected to be used?  Should he really bind Ren?

A glance back at the eager man on the bed reminds him why he’s doing this.  It’s totally different from what had been done to him.  Picturing how Ren will look with the silky black rope against his milky skin has his cock stirring, throbbing.  A few strokes has Hux fully hard once more, nothing to betray to Ren his temporary doubts.  Not with his iron control over his projections around the Force user.

Coyly, he casts a loop of the rope to drape over his shoulder.  “Ready?”

“Fuck, Hux, you know I am.”

One look at Ren shows Hux how true that is, if the desperation in his voice hadn’t already betrayed him.  His cock is hard in the thatch of dark curls, flushed almost purple.  A slick shine gleams off the thin stream of precome sliding down from the head.

Knowing he has Hux’s attention, Ren leans back on his hands to display himself to best effect.  Taut muscles flex under his skin.  Even marred with scars and bruises, every inch of the man is stunning, and tonight, willingly given over to Hux.

A few strides, confidence regained, has him kneeling next to Ren on the bed.  Hux reaches out with one finger to trace from Ren’s throat down the line made by his defined musculature.  A private smile quirks Hux’s mouth when the Knight shivers under his featherlight touch.   _ “And no one can take this power from me.” _  He leans in to kiss where his finger rests, just above the dip of Ren’s navel.  Lips still brushing pale skin, Hux murmurs, “present your wrists.”

Softly voiced as it is, it’s still a command.  The eagerness with which Ren complies...it’s a strange feeling.  There’s something incredibly powerful about having his willing submission.  It gives him a heady rush to have Ren bending to his will.  

Usually, Hux would take his time winding coils of rope around Ren.  Teasing him with the silky smoothness or rough scratch of the cord as he’s gradually shaped and constrained by Hux’s ties.  But tonight...tonight he just needs to feel Ren’s skin under his hands.  A few quick wraps and a cinch around, then Hux checks to make sure it’s snug but not too tight before knotting off the tie.  Black silk rope holds Ren’s wrists fast.  A long tail trails between them that Hux will have to fasten to the bed  _ somehow _ .  And though he could use the Force to break the ties, they both know he won’t.  Ren  _ wants this _ .

Firm pressure on Ren’s shoulder guides him back onto the unyielding mattress.  “How do you feel?”

Ren’s eyelids flutter as he stretches out under Hux’s hands.  When they play like this...it’s the most relaxed Hux ever sees the other man.  He’s already heading that way, tension bleeding out of his muscles to leave him ever more boneless under Hux’s unexpectedly gentle hands.  Hux envies that ability to release his control.  “Feels good, Hux.   _ Please _ …”

The next step involves a bit of ungraceful scramble on his part, so he’s glad Ren’s eyes remain shut as he continues to stretch out muscles slightly cramped from his time kneeling.  A short search reveals that the durasteel frame of the bed will make an adequate place to tie off Ren’s wrists.  Hux sees Ren’s cock twitch when he tugs his arms just that little touch farther.

Rope secured, Hux more gracefully moves back to straddle Ren on hands and knees, just waiting, not touching him anywhere yet.  Only when Ren opens his eyes in question does Hux lean down to kiss him.  Their only connection lies between their mouths and where Ren’s prominent nose presses into Hux’s cheek.  He teases him with gentle kisses, swiping his tongue across the seam of Ren’s mouth but never quite licking in; until Ren is whining and straining his shoulders trying to push up and firm the contact.  Squirming under Hux and just trying to get him to do more than tantalize.  Hux only huffs a laugh and retreats, keeping their kisses light.

“Hux,” Ren whines plaintively when his shoulders drop him back down to the bed.

“Ren,” Hux returns with a grin.

Ren pouts, setting his feet against the bed and pushing his hips up until their flushed cocks rub together.

A light slap to his hip sends him slumping down.  “I thought you said you were going to be a good boy,” Hux says archly.

Dark amber eyes stare up at him, until Ren glances away, apologetic.  “I’m sorry, Hux.  It’s just been so  _ long _ .”

Hux strokes a hand down his lover’s side soothingly.  “Do you want some help staying still?”

“Help?”

Sliding back onto his knees, Hux grasps a second coil of black rope, holding it up for Ren to see.  “Help.”  He takes the full-body shudder and deep groan as agreement.

A shift to kneel beside Ren and Hux pauses to consider his options.  His free hand draws spirals on Ren’s taut abdomen absently.  Should he tie his ankles to the bed?  Bind his knees together?  A spreader bar would be useful, but Force knows Hux isn’t rooting through _ those _ crates again.

Inspiration strikes.  Reaching out, Hux gently bends Ren’s ankle up to rest close to his thigh.  Careful to keep the doubled rope lying flat, he wraps it near the hip and around his ankle before tucking it through the initial loop.  Wrapping back the other way, he tucks it through the bight.  “Is this comfortable?”

Throat bobbing as he swallows, Ren nods.  “Yes,” his voice is thick with arousal.

Threading the rope between Ren’s ankle and thigh, Hux cinches it around the main ropes twice.  A surgeon’s knot and he’s secured.  It’s just as quick to repeat the tie on the other side.  With Ren’s legs tied, Hux nudges them to lie splayed against the bed.  He takes a moment to admire the scene, Kylo spread and vulnerable, cock flushed and bobbing between his legs.  Reaching out with one finger, he barely skims the velvet smooth skin as Ren moans and tries helplessly to buck into his touch.

“Careful, Ren.”

“I’ll show  _ you _ careful,” Ren tries to retort, but it lacks impact when his voice breaks with need.

Relenting, Hux leans forward to place a single kiss on the tip of the head before working his way up Ren’s long torso, careful around the bruises and scabbed over injuries.  Only when he reaches Ren’s pectorals does Hux detour from his path, kissing one small pink bud.  

His chest arches up into Hux’s touch.  How had he forgotten that Kylo’s nipples are so sensitive?

“Hux,  _ please _ …”

“It’s alright, Ren, I’ll take care of you.”  Hux raises his hand to play with the opposite nipple, bending back to kiss and nip at the first.  He only gets harder as Ren writhes under his teasing touches.  Ren actually  _ whimpers _ when Hux rubs his new tongue piercing around the bud.  Perhaps it’s useful after all.

“Fuck, Hux, feels so good,” Ren’s shoulder muscles bunch as he pulls at his bindings.  “I wanna  _ touch _ , wanna...feel good.”

Chuckling, Hux leans up to kiss Ren’s full mouth.  “Not tonight.  Tonight, _ I _ get to touch.  You’re just going to lie there and let me like a good boy.”

Whining, Ren strains against the ropes again, but without using the Force he stands no chance of breaking free.  Free to tease and torment, Hux throws his leg back over Ren’s hips and settles between his legs, his shaft rubbing pleasantly against Ren’s balls.  Both hands free, one keeps pinching at Ren’s pink bud, while the other teases the soft skin along the inside of his thigh.  The way Hux’s legs pin his Ren stands no chance of squirming away.

“You’re so gorgeous like this, pinned under me.  All that skin exposed for me to touch.”  Before Ren can respond, Hux leans up to capture his mouth again.  This time, he kisses him deeply, licking into Ren’s mouth and returning his moans.

It could be minutes or hours later, Hux doesn’t care, when Ren tears his mouth away to draw in a gasping breath.  “Please, touch my cock.   _ Please _ .”

Hux pulls back enough to look down on the Knight, flushed and panting.  His brown eyes are full.  They communicate his need and desire without the need for speech.  In spite of his earlier resolution not to bruise Kylo further, Hux can’t resist leaning in to suck a possessive mark on Ren’s neck.  As he does, the hand that had been on Ren’s thigh moves to his straining dick at last.

It shocks them both when Ren arches as far as he can with a scream, ropes of come splashing over his torso after Hux only strokes him once.  Immediately, Hux gentles his touch, the other hand switching to soothing strokes along Ren’s heaving ribs.

“Shhh, Kylo, I’ve got you,” Hux finds himself whispering.  “You’ve been so good for me, let yourself go.”

With his words, Kylo’s cock gives a final spurt as he shudders, moaning.  Before Hux can release him, he’s already sobbing with overstimulation.  And maybe something else.  

Wiping his hand off on the bedspread, wrinkling his nose in distaste as he does so, Hux switches to massaging up and down Kylo’s long body.  He pays particular attention to his arms, leaning to kiss Kylo as he does.  The muscles must be stiff after so long.  With the tension he’d been placing on them, overwrought and struggling, he wouldn’t be surprised if Kylo has strained something.  It takes some time, but Kylo’s shaking  _ does _ subside.

His fingers move to the knot around Kylo’s wrists, but…

“No, don’t.”

Hux looks down in surprise.  “Kylo?”

“Don’t stop, _ please _ , Hux.  I want you to fuck me.”  

Despite the pleading in Kylo’s eyes and voice, Hux is hesitant.  Long fingers brush once more against the knot keeping the other man captive.  Before he can do more than that, Kylo wrenches his wrists away.

“ _ No!  _  No, please Hux, please, I need you.  Fuck me.  I want…”

Hux stills Kylo’s frantic begging by sealing their mouths together, calming him with a deep and tender kiss.  “Alright,” their lips brush as Hux speaks, “but tell me if you need to stop and I will.  I don’t - I don’t want to hurt you.”

He can feel Kylo’s broad smile more than see it.  “Thank you.  I will, but I know I won’t have to.”

When Hux pushes himself up, he’s momentarily distracted by how  _ undone _ Kylo looks.  For once he’s tousled and flushed not with rage, but with pleasure.  Damp tracks down his cheeks betray that at some point, he’d been overwrought enough to shed tears, but his peaceful smile holds a rare calm.  As Hux brushes the pad of his thumb over the tear tracks, he realizes that he’d like to give Kylo this peace to keep.

As ever, practical concerns soon win out.  Plead as he likes, Hux isn’t going to fuck Kylo without some kind of lubricant.  And the evidence of Kylo’s first release is going to dry soon.  “I’ll be right back,” Hux says as he brushes a kiss against Kylo’s lips with the tips of his fingers.  “Will you be alright if I leave for a moment?”

A slow nod.  “Yes,” Kylo agrees, voice gravelly.

There’s an electric presence at the edge of his consciousness as Hux pads to the fresher.  Fortunately it’s been well stocked with towels, and he supplies himself with a small armful, wetting one with warm water.  He takes the opportunity to thoroughly wash his hands as well, ridding himself of the slightly sticky feeling of dried come, as well as bacta and bruise balm residue.  Kylo’s Force presence remains unintrusive as Hux returns, and he decides not to comment on it.  He uses the damp towel to gently clean Kylo’s abdomen and chest, smiling as Kylo’s eyes close with pleasure at the attention.  A clean one gets tucked under Kylo, for...potential messes, the others placed in a stack at the foot of the bed.

Now for the lube.  Hux eyes the crates with distaste and suspicion until he remembers the med kit abandoned next to the bed.  A quick examination of the contents nets him a tube of medical lubricant.  Why was that stocked in a kit for personal use?

“Looks like you’re in luck,” Hux teases, holding the tube up for Kylo to see.  The answering smile holds a trace of shyness, the other man still not quite used to the vulnerability of opening himself to another.  A gentle caress to his inner thigh and the smile turns grateful.

Hux resettles himself on the bed next to Kylo’s waist, one leg tucked up and under himself and the other hanging off the side.  He takes a few moments to kiss random trails up and down Kylo’s body, surprising them both when he evidently hits a ticklish spot.  Eyebrow arched, Hux rests his chin on Kylo’s ribs.  “You never told me you were ticklish.”

Bright spots of colour burn on Kylo’s cheeks.  “Shut up.  I haven’t been since...before.”

Unable to resist, Hux brushes a last kiss across the spot before letting the matter drop.  Instead, he retrieves the lube and slicks the fingers of his right hand.  A second’s thought, and Hux wipes the excess lube off on the damp towel lying next to the bed.

Kylo gasps sharply when lube-slick fingers begin to massage around his tight ass.  

“This time, I’m going to be patient opening you up,” Hux leans down to mutter in Kylo’s ear.  “Going to make you nice and wet and open for my cock.  This time, you’re not going to hurry me.  No more getting me to shove in when you’re still too tight.”

Kylo’s laugh at his commentary is choked off with a moan when Hux wiggles the tip of his finger into his tight hole.

“Fuck, you’re so  _ hot _ .  Can’t wait to slide inside.”  A little deeper, and Hux strokes his finger along the soft skin.  “This will feel even better when it’s my cock.”

“Oh, fuck yes.  I can’t wait for you to fuck me, fill me.  I -,” Kylo cuts himself off, craning his neck to kiss Hux.

And though Hux’s curiosity is piqued, he’s rather too busy to encourage Kylo to finish.  His free hand tangles in Kylo’s thick mane, the other knuckle deep in his hole, flexing and pushing as he fingers his lover open.

Hux pulls away to nose behind Kylo’s ear, the hair silky against his face.  “Can I tell you a secret, Kylo?”

“Ye-” his voice breaks, forcing him to try again, “yes?”

Tugging on the handful of thick waves, Hux scrapes his teeth over Kylo’s lobe before purring, “I’m  _ glad _ you’ve never cut your hair to First Order standards.  There have been times when I’ve fantasized about rubbing my cock in it.  Just coming all over it.  Marking that black with creamy white and letting it drip over your face.”

Kylo groans deep in his chest.  “Fuck, Hux, that’s so filthy.  I would let you, you know.  Kneel on the floor and suck you til you’re close.  Then you can bury your cock in my hair and mess me up.”

Feeling his cock twitch as Kylo speaks, Hux knows they’re definitely going to have to try it.  But not tonight.

“You’re opening up so nicely for me, Kylo.  Can you feel it?  You’re going to take me so well.”

Kylo’s nod of agreement pulls against the hold Hux has on his hair.  “Please, more?  I can take a third finger.”

Teasing the tip around the edge of Kylo’s ass, Hux asks, “can you really?  Are you going to be a good boy for me?”

“Yes, I’ll be so good.  Please.”  Kylo turns and manages to bury his face into the crook of Hux’s neck.  

With all that skin open to him, Hux takes the opportunity to kiss along the tendon of Kylo’s neck.  At the same time, he pulls his fingers out just enough to push back with the third alongside.  “Almost there.  You’re all nice and slick.”  

Kylo surfaces to capture Hux’s lips, breaking away occasionally to pant for breath.  His skin is slick with sweat, writhing and whimpering from unceasing stimulation.  He’s already come once, and Hux hasn’t entirely been able to avoid brushing against his prostate.

It’s not too much longer before Hux is certain he’s done enough to prepare Kylo.  “Are you ready for me?  Want me to come so deep inside you, it’s still dripping out hours later?”

“Please, please, please.  Want you to fuck me, fill me,” Kylo pleads, arching up into Hux as far as the ropes will let him.

“Good boy.”  The compliment draws a whine of pleasure from Kylo.  Though he has to stand to get into a better position to fuck him, Hux keeps one point of contact with Kylo at all times.  With both hands occupied with the lube, that becomes his bony knees pressed into Kylo’s thighs, his feet flush with the outside of Hux’s calves.  “This is going to be a bit cold,” he says apologetically, liberally slicking his fingers with lube.

Kylo hisses when Hux presses his fingers back inside, distributing the slick as evenly as possible.  “You didn’t need that.”

Grinning down at Kylo, Hux can tell his expression has a feral edge.  He’s spent so long focusing on the other man and ignoring his own pleasure that all he wants to do is drive in and pound Kylo into the mattress.  Going slowly is testing his own patience as well as Kylo’s.  But if there’s one thing General Hux is good at, it’s patience.  “I told you I was going to make you wet for me.  And you are, you’re practically dripping.  It’s going to feel so good when I push in.”

At last Hux takes hold of his own cock, excess lube more than enough to get it slick.  “Pull your knees up to your chest for me, Kylo.”

Trembling, Kylo tries, but he can’t quite keep them up on his own.  Hux pins them in place with his own body, leaning across to grab the damp towel again to wipe his hands.  At the look of disbelief from the man under him, he raises an eyebrow.  “You’d rather I rub lube all through your hair?”

“Earlier, you were saying you were going to co-”  Kylo’s retort cuts off with a thick moan as Hux teasingly rubs the head of his cock around Kylo’s hole.  Sliding in almost without intent. 

Hux allows himself to groan at last when he bottoms out, relishing the shiver that has Kylo contracting around him.  One hand goes to the bed beside Kylo’s shoulder to stabilize him, the other threading back into Kylo’s hair. 

“Fuck, you feel so good around me.  So hot and tight and slick.  I could stay like this all night.”

The suggestion has Kylo whimpering.  

“You want that?” Hux demands as he pulls out slowly.  Only iron control keeps his thrust back just as restrained.  “Want me to keep you strung out on the edge?”

Kylo tries to shake his head and nod at the same time.  His conflict reads clear on his open features.  “Feels so good having you in me.  But I want you to come, want to feel your pleasure.”

Pausing after his next thrust, Hux practically bends Kylo in half as he leans down to kiss him.  Some distant part of his mind is impressed with how flexible the man is; it belies the bulk of his muscle.  But most of him is occupied with the way Kylo flexes around him, the way little whimpers tell him he’s brushed against his prostate, the indefinable taste of his kisses and the sweetness of his mouth.

With how long he’s been ignoring himself, how long it’s been since he’s come, Hux knows he isn’t going to last all that long.  He wants to draw it out though.  So he keeps things slow.  Thrusts so slowly that he can practically feel all the ripples of his Kylo’s walls, with long pauses to do nothing but grind in and in and in until Kylo is clenching and shuddering around him.  Licks into Kylo’s mouth and kisses down his neck.  Whispers into Kylo’s ear how good he is for Hux, how incredible he feels around him.

And when Hux comes at last, it’s not the gut punch that results from their usual almost-violent fucking.  It’s like cresting a wave, a long coast to shore on the aftershocks of his pleasure.  He’s so lost in wave after wave of electric sensation washing over him that he almost doesn’t notice Kylo’s shared cry, the way he shudders apart under him.  It’s only the way the air suddenly feels charged, the presence at the edges of his consciousness that tells him their barriers had dropped enough for his climax to overflow into Kylo.

“Force, that was…”

“Incredible,” Kylo finishes for him, voice a croak, when they finally start to come down.

Back in his body enough to register something aside from the overwhelming pleasure, Hux realizes he’s unpleasantly sticky.  At some point, Kylo parted his bound legs enough to cradle him between.  Now he’s covered in Kylo’s slowly drying come.  But he’s too sated to bother moving just yet.

Instead, his hands move to the knot holding Kylo’s wrists.  “Can I untie this now?”

Kylo grins at the teasing tone.  His answering nod almost has their foreheads colliding, the Force user still coming back into the limits of his body.

Fortunately, Hux had bound Kylo in such a way that he didn’t have to reach up to the bedframe to set him free.  It’s the work of moments to unbind his wrists, and Hux pulls one of Kylo’s arms down, massaging the cramped muscle.  “How are you feeling?”

His head drops back on a contented sigh.  “So good - best I’ve felt in months.”

“I’m glad.”  Hux reaches for his other arm, allowing the first to fall gently by Kylo’s side.  They lie in comfortable silence as Hux massages feeling back into Kylo’s arms and shoulders.  A little squirming and he manages to untie Kylo’s legs without standing, but then he has to move.

“Would you like me to take care of your legs?” Hux asks, wincing as his soft cock slips out of Kylo’s hole.  “Or should I clean us up first?”

Kylo’s nose wrinkles as he considers, stretching out his long legs.  “My le-,” a pause, and he looks at the come beginning to crust in the trail of hair down from his navel.  “Clean first,” he says ruefully.

Chuckling, Hux grabs one of the clean towels and strides to the fresher on wobbly legs.  Wetting it down is quick enough, but he takes a moment to clean himself and refreshes the towel before returning to Kylo.

He has to scrub to clean his belly off sufficiently, but distracts them both with kisses as he does.  Wiping Kylo’s hole clean on the other hand, sends a curl of heat swirling in his gut at the sight of his own come dripping down milky skin.

“Fuck, Kylo, you’re so gorgeous and tempting,” Hux murmurs.  His finger traces gently around Kylo’s puffy ring, making him squirm and whine.

“M not gorgeous,” Kylo pouts.  “Dark side users are intimidating.”

“If you say so,” Hux grins.  “How do your legs feel?”

Stretching out experimentally, Kylo shrugs.  “Fine.  But ‘m tired.”

Hux tugs the towel out from under him, depositing the used ones in the laundry chute.  When he turns back to the bed, Kylo has curled on his side, eyes already fluttering shut.  It’s a problem when Hux tries to wrestle the covers out from under him.

“Ugh, move, you big lump.”

Kylo grumbles.  It takes some wiggling, but they’re soon both under the covers.  Hux drifts off to a peaceful sleep with Kylo’s head resting over his heart, carding his fingers through thick black waves.


	3. Chapter 3

Something’s strange.  It’s not that Hux has woken before his alarm, that’s business as usual.  No, he’s warm.  Entirely warm, no spots where his too thin frame fails at retaining heat.  Draped over him, doing a better job than his covers ever have, is a heavy form radiating warmth like a heater.  Hux’s sleep fuzzed brain puts the puzzle pieces together to determine that the man acting as a breath-stealing blanket is Kylo.

For a moment, Hux closes his eyes and allows himself to bask in sated comfort.

They snap open again as terror jolts through him.  What has he done?  Only yesterday, Snoke had promised that Hux would suffer if he didn’t play the obedient slave.  And what’s the first thing he did when alone with Ren?  Shove him into the wall and demanded he remove the chains.

_ “Fuck.” _

Hux  _ never _ allows his impulses to rule him as they had the day before.  Even after he’d been so aggressive, he could have possibly remedied it by dropping to his knees with an apology.  What had he done instead?  Acted as if he were the Master, and not the slave.  There’d always been something about Ren that got under his skin, but Hux _ should _ have known better.  Stripped of his rank, his gifts for strategy and engineering are no longer protection.  Just like before...

As Hux lies there, he feels Ren beginning to twitch as he wakes.  His first impulse is to pull away from him, but the way they’re tangled together makes that impossible.  Every muscle tenses as he waits in vain hope for an opportunity to flee.  Anxious thoughts tumble through his mind, two questions at the forefront.  What is he going to do?  What is  _ Ren _ going to do?

The possibility that Ren will give him a sleepy smile as he blinks awake never crossed Hux’s mind.  The affectionate look almost manages to slip under his guard - he’s never had anyone look at him like they were so pleased to be in his presence.  It’s an effort to remind himself that it won’t last.  Not once Ren remembers he has power over Hux.

“Mmm, morning, Hux,” Ren slurs.  He pushes off just enough to be able to look down at Hux.  “Last night was…”

Stiff as a durasteel girder, Hux waits for the end of that sentence.  

“Hux, what’s wrong?”  Some of his panic must bleed through to taint the Force, because Kylo cups his cheek with one enormous hand.  “Why are you so tense?  Was it...did you not want me?”

Hux strangles on a disbelieving laugh.  He’d been prepared to hear...and Kylo was worried he hadn’t wanted him?  Without permission, words tumble from his mouth.  “My behaviour last night was wildly inappropriate, and will not be repeated.  Therefore, there’s no need to tell the Supreme Leader about anything that transpired after we entered your quarters, Ren.  It would be best if we resolved the matter ourselves.”

Ren’s open amber eyes allow Hux to read his pain and confusion.  “Hux...I don’t understand…  What are you - why can’t it happen again?  Where is this coming from?”

His composure fragile at best after his time in Snoke’s Citadel, Hux breaks.  “Please, Kylo.  Please don’t tell Snoke.”  He feels as if he’s six years old again, begging his training overseer not to report that he’d failed to live up to his father’s impossible standards.  Knowing that they would.  Knowing that it means more ‘reconditioning’ sessions, for all he’s aware now that the early iteration of the  _ program _ was barely deserving of the name.

Blinking slowly, the confusion on Ren’s face hasn’t cleared.  “Why would I tell the Supreme Leader we had sex?”  He’s just not _ getting it _ .

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Hux’s tension makes him sharp, “I know I’ve already broken every rule of slave behaviour.  So if it’s all the same to you,  _ Ren _ , I’d rather you just punish me yourself already.”  Regaining enough sense to stop snapping at the man who holds his fate, Hux pleads, “I swear, I’ll do better.  You don’t have to tell Snoke.  You’d rather keep me than have him hand me over to your Knights, right?”  At least Hux hopes he does.

As comprehension dawns on Ren’s face, Hux closes his eyes.  He’d rather not see Kylo’s expression turn hard when he remembers the power he has over Hux.  At least Ren isn’t cruel enough to come up with anything  _ really _ creative.  (Not like his father had.)

Ren’s forehead is heavy against his own.  Some impulse drives Hux to open his eyes, meeting Kylo’s startlingly close and soft.  Kylo’s thumb gently rubs over his high cheekbone.  “I was about to tell you - say how much I liked last night.”

As Hux can feel his expression light with astonishment, Kylo ducks his head.  “I can see why the Supreme Leader felt making an example of you necessary.  But in this case, it seems a waste.  He could have found a scapegoat to blame, and used your talents to make the Order strong again.”  Kylo’s face turns serious.  “But I will not defy my Master for you, Hux.  I owe him everything I am.  He is much wiser than me - there must be a purpose to his decisions.  You  _ will _ play the obedient slave in public, and do it well.  But in private, I prefer your boldness.”

It’s not quite the assurance his tentative hope had thought it could be, but much better than his dread had expected.  Hux closes his eyes once again as he kills that thought.  It’s not as though anyone has ever put his wellbeing first.  “Very well.”  After so many emotions provoked by even that short conversation, he needs some distance.

“Get off me,” it’s not quite an order, as he prods at Kylo’s bulk on top of him, “I need to shower.”

Ren rolls off with a displeased grunt, but Hux doesn’t look back as he tries not to appear as if he’s hurrying into the fresher.  He automatically reaches for the water controls before second guessing himself.  The Admiral, in his experience, is just petty enough to check the rations logs for Ren’s quarters.  Better to use the sonic.  The regulations are there for a reason, after all.

After a short, unsatisfying cycle, Hux is relieved to step out of the small cubicle.  He’s made an unpleasant new discovery - wearing the collar in the sonic makes his back teeth buzz.  Scrubbing a hand over his face with a sigh, he realizes he needs to shave.  At least it will give him some time before he has to face Ren.

A rummage through the cupboards in the small fresher nets him the standard issue laser razor.  The familiar tingling burn and slight singed scent allows Hux to pretend for a moment that it’s a morning like any other.  Listening to the ship hum around him, his trained ear catches a note of dissonance in the thrum of the engines.  He makes a note to speak to the engineers regarding maintenance.  Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror, the collar around his neck is an unsubtle reminder that it’s not his place any longer.  These aren’t his quarters.  He’s not preparing for his shift on the bridge.  Glaring at the tin of hair wax, Hux reflects bitterly that at least he doesn’t have to slick his hair into immobility.  No regs for how a slave’s hair is to be maintained, after all.

Fortunately, Ren is shrugging on his robes when Hux reluctantly leaves the fresher.  Despite Ren’s admission that he wants Hux to be himself in private, he can’t face the man.  Fair or not, much of him still blames Ren for his situation.  The boiling anger that had sustained him for those months after  _ Starkiller _ isn’t entirely spent.

“Will you be well - can I leave you by yourself?”

Ren’s awkward question doesn’t help.  Hux forces his rage into a tight knot within before answering, trying to play it light.  “I’ll be fine.  I’m used to running the operations for a Star Destroyer  _ and _ an entire base, Ren.”

“I  _ was _ your co-commander,” Ren turns to him with a teasing grin.

“Please, Ren,” Hux snorts, “your tendencies made  _ more _ work for me, rather than less.”  As Ren’s leaving, he can’t help but call out, “Tell the engineers to take a look at the engines.  Something doesn’t sound quite right.”

Ren turns just enough that Hux can see his eyebrow arch under a fall of dark hair, but he nods.  It’s strange to see him in his full robes without the bucket he was so fond of, which must have been lost with Starkiller.  The scar which bisects his face is enough now, at least, to make his oddly boyish face menacing.  If he’s not smiling, anyways.

The door whooshes shut behind Ren at last, leaving Hux alone for the first time since his nightmare began.  The strength leaves his legs as he sighs.  No one left to posture for.

Hux yelps when his bare backside makes contact with the frigid durasteel of the floor.  It’s remarkable how quickly his legs remember their strength when the alternative is remaining in a heap on the floor.  How had he forgotten his nudity?

Everything is just so different from the regimented life that’s been his from the moment the Commandant claimed his bastard son.  With nothing assigned for him to accomplish, Hux is left feeling displaced and unsure.  A strange impulse has him moving back to bed.  Staring down at the inviting mattress, a voice in his head surfaces, “ _ lazy soldiers are nothing but a stain on the First Order!  Do you want to be useless, boy? _ ”  Abject rejection of the idea has him moving quickly, as if he could deny the impulse to rest through sheer distance.  Bare feet are almost silent compared to the usual click of his boots, or the rarer shuffle of stocking feet.  The only sound comes from his skin peeling away from where it sticks slightly.  When he looks down, he can see where he’s been by the fogged outlines of his feet on the cool metal.  Shivering in the chill air, Hux wraps his arms around himself as he continues to walk.

Uncertainty carries Hux in a random orbit around the rooms.  His conditioning hasn’t prepared him for a situation where he doesn’t have a clear purpose.  Ren had given him no instructions for the day.  And though he hates to admit it, he’s not sure what to do without them.  Resentment wells up that he’d been given to a man who’s not even going to make use of him; though Hux knows perfectly well that he’d feel the same way had Ren attempted to issue commands.  For once, he’s unable to force himself to calm.  And then his random path sends his foot stumbling on the wrought metal waistband of his slave clothing.  The frustration and anger he’s been trying to suppress boils over.

In a furious haze, Hux picks up the piece and hurls it against the wall.  The satisfyingly loud clang as it connects with the durasteel shocks him out of his brief daze.  It reminds him that he’s better than directionless fury - that’s something Ren takes part in, not Hux.  He’s been stripped down into someone lesser, someone he’s spent his whole life trying not to be.  A need to be dressed surges up, overwhelming.  To have clothing to cover his physical nudity at least, if he’s no longer permitted his rank to shield himself.  Something to make him feel like a person again.  Something that isn’t the humiliating excuse for a skirt he’d been dressed in.  He should have known there’s nothing, at least without venturing into the crates.  Frustrated, Hux finally wraps himself up in the coverlet.  He feels absurd.

Less than three weeks ago, he was General Hux, in command of the First Order’s fleet.  Now he’s wrapped in a blanket in his biggest irritant’s quarters, glaring suspiciously at a stack of crates.  Blinking furiously in denial of the water welling in his eyes.  “ _ Pathetic,” _ whispers a familiar voice.  In moments, he’s on his feet once again, pacing out the confines of his new life.  This time, the cold steel on his bare feet keeps him grounded.

For shipboard quarters, Ren has quite spacious rooms.  The antechamber where the crates have been stacked also holds a couch and two upholstered chairs for potential entertaining, and a desk with a built in console.  Half walls don’t quite separate the space from the bed chamber, but there’s a dark curtain that can be pulled to close it off.  Or it could be used to block the light from the faceted transparisteel viewport in the antechamber.  Though similar, it’s not the same layout as his  _ Finalizer _ , and Hux is grateful for it.

The bedroom itself is equally straightforward.  There’s a deep closet inset into the same wall that holds the ‘fresher.  When Hux checks it, the closet only holds spare linens and plenty of space for storage.  When he shuts it again, he pretends he’s not missing his own tightly organized space, uniforms hung neatly above boots polished to a mirror shine.   _ Force _ , he wishes he still had his greatcoat.  Or even the basic kit for working out.  Anything to wear that doesn’t make him look like the filling in an Ansarran wrap.

Aside from a simple dresser, nightstand, and the double bed he’s already familiar with, that’s it.  Those are the boundaries of his new reality.

It’s not  _ fair _ .  Hux had expected to be punished in the wake of  _ Starkiller’s _ destruction - such a major failure, no matter that it should never have been able to happen.  It should have been  _ impossible _ for a ship to jump through their shields.  Hyperdrives are  _ supposed _ to have failsafes that  _ make _ it impossible.  Without that first suicidal run,  _ Starkiller _ would have remained secure.  Even then, the oscillator’s shielding was more than up to the task.  Had Kylo not chosen to…  Hux has run through the possibilities so many times, and has never been able to think of something more he could have done.  The protections he put in place were more than sufficient, his actions that day everything he should have done.  And yet, he was prepared to accept responsibility for a failure that wasn’t his.  

In spite of what he had told Kylo, Hux had never really considered running.  His whole life had been about serving the First Order.  That didn’t change because he had earned punishment for  _ Starkiller’s _ loss.

But why slavery?  Hux had expected a court martial to be convened.  For them to decide on demotion or even execution.  He would have walked proudly to his death, knowing that he had served the Order to the best of his ability.  Even after Snoke informed Hux he would be enslaved should he succeed in his task, he had thought it was a test of his loyalty.  Landing his shuttle by Snoke’s Citadel that day, he had expected to find Ren his executioner, not his Master.  And how could Ren himself have gotten off with so little punishment?  He should have borne even more responsibility for the failure.  

The fact Ren’s  _ personal interests _ played a large part in allowing _ Starkiller’s _ destruction only deepens the indignation of being gifted as his slave.

Though Hux doesn’t share Ren’s blind faith in Snoke’s judgement, he’s clinging to hope that Ren is right.  That the Supreme Leader has a deeper purpose behind this enslavement.  Perhaps Hux was correct when he supposed it to be a test of his loyalty.

The thought pushes him back to proper military posture.  In his helpless anger, he had momentarily lost sight of his resolution to do his best for the Order - even as a slave.  No more pacing wrapped in a blanket.  With reluctant determination, he eyes the crates once again.  His best chance of getting some proper clothing is to dig through them, no matter what else he finds.

Resigned more than resolved, Hux settles to his knees.  He might as well begin with the crate he’s already opened.  The barely-there garments Snoke had prepared for him still rest on top, and as much as he would love to toss them in the incinerator, Hux sets them neatly aside.  He’s reluctantly certain that he’ll have need of them.  Below are more bundles of rope he hadn’t moved the previous night.  There has to be at least five hundred feet.  Had Ren been expected to practically cocoon him in it?  The rope joins the ‘clothing’ on the floor.

What lies below has his gut roiling.  Hux is familiar with the tawse and the whip, corporal punishment had been nothing out of the norm for the Academy (or even the time before).  But the sheer  _ variety _ of implements designed for nothing but causing pain disgusts him.  Some perverse fascination has him laying them all out, and cataloguing what he finds.  A simple crop is probably the least damaging item he finds.  It looks almost innocuous next to the flogger with chain tails, or the spiked paddle.  There’s even a nerfwhip.  These implements are practically an open invitation for Ren to mutilate him.

Hux shouldn’t be surprised.  Pain seems to be Snoke’s favoured method of pushing Ren to the Dark, whether it’s his own or that of others.

Either way, Hux doesn’t want to look at his discoveries any longer.  Gathering them in a distastefully large armful, he hides them away in the bottom drawer of the dresser.  He almost stumbles headlong over the blanket wrapped around him as it slowly falls away.  But the fact that he’s bare again is suddenly not his first priority.

With all that tucked away, Hux apprises the room once more.  Should he set things entirely to rights, unpack the crates, and organize Ren’s things?  That’s certainly what a good slave  _ should _ do.  But Hux is still too much the General for that.  He wants his service to be dedicated to the Order as it always has been, not just to one man who exists on the fringes of the organization.  Abandoning his search for the time being, Hux sweeps the blanket around his shoulders as if it were his greatcoat, and takes a seat behind the desk.

Though he doesn’t know Ren’s password, it’s a simple matter for Hux to slice into the console.  He’d long since built himself a backdoor into the system so he could monitor communications between his subordinate Generals and Admirals.  Hux was always perfectly aware that most resented his unprecedented rise to become the face of the Order.  Considering that, he felt it best to keep track of any potential plans to unseat him.  And while he hadn’t anticipated the actual source of his downfall, this is by far not the first time an untraceable entry has been helpful.

The first thing Hux checks on is the status of the  _ Finalizer _ .  Even more than Starkiller, she had been  _ his _ .  He’d even had a hand in her design, rather than taking over a project years in development.  At least it appears the  _ Finalizer _ is still operating well.  Snoke had taken his recommendation and promoted Syarus to General, rather than pulling in a commander from another ship.  Syarus has been a steady presence under his command for several years, someone whose tactical judgement Hux trusts.  With her as General, Hux knows his ship is in good hands.  As expected, she’s following the plans he’d laid out before leaving for the Citadel that final day.

Habitually, his next move would be to look in on the progress of Phasma in training the ‘troopers.  Eight months still isn’t enough to have reminded him to look for a different digital signature on the reports - Captain Furnay is a sound officer, but he’s not Phasma.

Phasma...he misses her still.  She’d been a colleague more than a friend, and an argumentative one at that.  They’d often disagreed over training methods.  But her dedication to the Order and to her soldiers matched his own, and any argument between them stemmed from that deep desire to make their people the best they could be.

* * *

_ Hux steps off the battered shuttle that had carried him off  _ Starkiller _ to the Citadel and then back to the  _ Finalizer  _ with weary relief.  He’s on familiar ground once more, and can pretend Snoke hasn’t threatened...what he had.  Unsurprisingly, Phasma has a detachment of ‘troopers to greet him, along with his officers bearing updates for their stations. _

_ Returning their salutes crisply, Hux gestures them all away, “you may return to your posts.  Officers, if you would leave your updates with Lt. Mitaka for now, I will schedule meetings with you all when convenient.” _

_ The group disperses as expected.  All but Phasma. _

_ Exhausted, all Hux desires is to return to his quarters to shower and manage at least a little sleep before returning to his duties.  He’s still crusted in ash and Kylo Ren’s dried blood, the trip to the Citadel spent trying to keep the Knight from bleeding out.  Sleep had been equally elusive on the return.  Over and over he picked  _ Starkiller’s _ fall apart.  Despite his best efforts, Hux was unable to determine just how things had gone so catastrophically wrong, even with all the defenses and precautions in place.  And the other senior officers had argued that his measures were overkill, since it was impossible to get past the shield around the planet.  So when his bleary eyes see Phasma step forward to speak to him, he’s less than pleased. _

_ “Can this wait, Captain?” _

_ “Sir, I don’t believe it can.  May we speak in private?” the tall Captain seems almost hesitant as she continues, “I have something to confess.” _

_ Dread pools in his stomach as he gestures to a nearby conference room.  He doesn’t want to hear whatever it is.  Never has he loathed duty so much as in the aftermath of X-Wings appearing in the sky above his magnificent weapon. _

_ The door seals shut behind them with a hiss as Hux keys in his executive override.  Whatever Phasma has to say, they won’t be interrupted.  “What did you wish to confess, Captain?” _

_ She takes off her helmet, short pale blonde hair uncharacteristically mussed.  Though visibly ashamed, she still meets his eyes steadily.  “General, I was the one who lowered the planetary shield and made  _ Starkiller _ vulnerable to attack.” _

_ It feels like a blow to the diaphragm.  Hux would never have expected her to be the one to lower the shield, not for any reason.  “Explain,” he demands coldly. _

_ “I was on patrol through the detention sector, searching for the scavenger girl, when I was blindsided by FN-2187 and his two companions.  Knowing the layout of the base, FN-2187 brought me to a shield console and ordered me to lower the shields.  Sir, I don’t know why I complied.  It’s as if FN-2187 somehow had the power to compel me.  But I was certain that they wouldn’t succeed, that my ‘troopers would apprehend them.  There were already dozens of patrols in the area searching for the girl.”  Phasma sets her helmet on the table before snapping a perfect salute.  “Regardless, it was an error in judgement, and I accept full responsibility.” _

_ For one perfect shining moment, Hux sees an opportunity to escape his own fate.  He now has a perfect target to deflect blame onto.  Reveal Phasma as the one responsible for  _ Starkiller’s _ destruction, and Hux no longer bears culpability for the failure.  Snoke will retract his threat (promise) and Hux can keep his rank and life. _

_ But then Hux considers his recent interview with Snoke, and his brief illusion crumbles.  The Supreme Leader wants someone to make an example of, and despite being much more than her title would suggest, he doubts a mere Captain would satisfy Snoke.  It also seems too much the actions of a coward, throwing a loyal subordinate to the krayt.  Hux feels much older than his thirty four years as he sighs, leaning against the edge of the table and scrubbing a hand through his hair. _

_ “Why did you have to tell me this, Phasma?” _

_ “Sir?” _

_ Waving her query away, he answers, “That was rhetorical.  I know you’re a true and loyal officer of the Order, and that is why you had to report this.”  He leans back on his hands, looking up at the ceiling and wishing he was anywhere else.  “Can I tell you something, Phasma?” _

_ “Of course, sir.”  She sounds puzzled. _

_ Hux almost confesses it all.  Snoke’s ultimatum, his ‘reward’ that is anything but that.  Given what her fate will be in light of that knowledge, however, it doesn’t seem fair.  Instead, he returns to military posture.  Phasma mirrors him, sensing the unusual moment of vulnerability is through. _

_ “I am sorry for what duty compels me to order,” he admits softly.  His next words hold his customary snap, the orders of the General rather than the thoughts of the man.  “As of this moment, you are stripped of your rank.  PH-703, I hereby sentence you to execution for treason to the First Order.  Remove your armour.” _

_ “Yes, sir.”   _

_ As she begins the slow task of removing the chrome plates, Hux finds he can’t watch.   _ “I’m sorry, Phasma.  This is better than what Snoke would order done, were he to find out.” _  He refuses to subject a respected subordinate to the same type of overblown punishment as he has been promised.  Instead of following the removal of each mirror burnished piece, Hux inspects her blaster.  As expected, it’s in flawless working order, not a speck of dirt to be found. _

_ It’s the work of a moment to disengage the lock override, and then he gestures Phasma ahead of him.  Her back is straight, her head high as she precedes him to the hanger.  Hux doesn’t want to do this, but at least he can guarantee her a swift death.  His aim is still as precise as he had made it under the exacting eye of his father. _

_ The soldiers in the hangar turn to stare as their Captain and General return.  He can see more than a few jaws open in shock, never having seen the Captain out of her infamous chrome plate. _

_ “Attention!  General on deck!” the duty lieutenant calls out.  When they all snap to, it’s Hux’s turn to speak. _

_ “Former Captain PH-703 has confessed to me her role in lowering the defensive shields on  _ Starkiller _.  For this crime, she has been judged guilty of treason against the First Order.  You are witness to her execution.”  His cultivated voice easily reaches the far corners of the space, resounding off durasteel walls and carrying.  Turning to Phasma, he asks, “do you have any last words?” _

_ “It’s been an honour to serve under you, General.” _

_ Afraid that his exhaustion will allow true emotion to bleed through, Hux allows himself only a short nod.  Lifting the blaster to sight along the barrel, it takes a few moments before he can steady himself enough to aim with confidence. _

_ In the end, it’s deceptively simple.  A soft squeeze of the trigger, a blaster bolt, and she crumples quietly to the floor. _

* * *

After he had executed Phasma, Hux couldn’t banish the shakes for the rest of the night.  It had been worth it to be able to report to Snoke that he had taken care of a traitor.  To see the Leader’s disappointment in not being able to make another example, even as he commended Hux for his swift action.

Hux forces himself to put the memory aside, refocusing on his self-appointed task.  Unsurprisingly, one of the first communiques he pulls up from Admiral Woyzec is full of gloating references to Hux’s new status.  Phrases like “the upstart finally got what’s been coming to him” and “the skinny prick can’t lord his status over us any more” don’t give Hux a lot of hope for the objectivity of the senior officers.  Nor for his own safety if any of them think they have a chance to harm him without retaliation.  For one, he doesn’t think he ever ‘lorded his status’ over anyone.  If he ever had to pull rank, it was only because they were being deliberately obstructionist.  Some held their own prestige over the betterment of the Order.  That was something Hux would never stand for.

His main priority however, is to see the progress of the plans he left in place to further the goals of the Order.  Without the Republic Fleet and Republic funds, the Resistance has been left on the defensive.  Even with Starkiller’s destruction, the First Order has more soldiers and more capital ships than the Resistance can hope to muster.  Hux’s strategy has taken advantage of that fact in the past eight months, marching inward from the Order’s territory in Wild Space.  They had started with planets that had little in the way of their own defense forces.  With the Order’s confidence bolstered, he next directed them towards planets shaken by the destruction of the Hosnian system.

Just before his departure for Snoke’s Citadel, Hux had laid out a strategy to begin targeting planets known to be allied to the Resistance.  Their next target was to be Mon Cal, as Hux was well aware of their role in both the Rebellion and Resistance.  Without their shipbuilders, the Resistance would be vulnerable.

But one after the other after the other, the Admirals and Generals are revealed to be ignoring his orders entirely.  There’s only a handful of commanders still trying to follow the plan, Syarus leading an attempt to modify it for the reduced number of Star Destroyers available.

Hux stands with a snarl, slamming his hands down on the desk when he truly realizes how quickly his command has been undermined.  He’s only steps away from the door, determined to make his case before Snoke, when he realizes his blanket had been left behind on the chair.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This fic was formerly known as 'Invisible Chains'. Yes, it's still the same story, and the same author! I just didn't like the title.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [saltandlimes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandlimes/pseuds/saltandlimes) and [brawlite](http://archiveofourown.org/users/brawlite/pseuds/brawlite) for the awesome beta. Love you guys.
> 
> Please do not choke anyone, during sex or otherwise. It's seriously unsafe.

A week of being trapped in Ren’s rooms, nothing to do but comb through the idiocies perpetuated by those in power after his demotion and come up with strategies for Ren to present.  Strategies which are rejected every time, as Force users “have no place in conducting warfare”:  (a viewpoint which Hux himself had often agreed with, but he at least had heard Ren out first.   _ Then _ rejected his plans for being shortsighted or too costly.).  Hux has had enough.  When he notices Ren pulling on his training clothes instead of Knight’s robes, Hux sees his opportunity.

The surprise on Ren’s face when he turns to see Hux standing by the door burns through Hux, as icy as Starkiller’s surface.  The bite of it makes his voice sharp, sharper than he’s allowed himself to speak since that first day.  “Regulations require every member of the First Order to maintain a certain level of fitness.  I thought I would accompany you to the training facilities.”  He arches an eyebrow.  “Unless you object?” he asks, almost daring Ren to say something.

Ren gives a slow smile, shaking his head as if to force this new information to fit.  “I suppose I just wasn’t expecting your interest in fitness.  I certainly never saw you in the training rooms before.”

Before… “Walking the length of an almost three kilometre Star Destroyer a number of times over the course of my shift was adequate,” Hux retorts.  “I have more time to spare now, training is an acceptable diversion.”

“Fine, fine,” Kylo holds his hands up defensively.  Long legs carry him easily past Hux to hit the door panel, polished durasteel sliding open with a quiet ‘whoosh’.  He heads out without bothering to confirm that Hux is following.

The corridors of the  _ Obliterator _ are familiar and un- at the same time.  Despite having spent much of his life on Destroyers, every one has its own unique characteristics, and he’d hardly been in the state of mind to observe them on his only other trip through these halls.  Hux lags behind Kylo further and further as the engineer in him busily catalogues the structural differences between his  _ Finalizer _ , and the ship where he’s currently trapped.  However, the sounds of a scuffle in a branching corridor is sufficient to draw his attention away.  

Turning to investigate, Hux sees an officer tugging at a Stormtrooper’s breastplate..

“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m supposed to be on patrol in this sector,” the ‘trooper protests, voice thin and scared even through the vocoder.

The officer backhands him hard enough to knock his helmet off, spinning on the dome along the polished floor.  “You are nothing more than a tool.  If I command you to service me, that’s what you’re to do,” she says.

All of Hux’s beliefs rebel against what he’s hearing.  “What do you think you’re doing?” he thunders.  The ‘trooper stares pleadingly at him while the officer turns red with fury.  “This is no way for an officer of the First Order to behave.”

“Are you one of those who pretends like they’re people?” she asks scornfully, one hand still locked on the ‘trooper’s breastplate.  “You should know better.  Their only purpose is to serve the First Order - that includes its officers.”

“Wrong,” Hux snaps, incensed.  Any of  _ his _ officers who had expressed similar sentiments had quickly been educated otherwise.  Forcibly, if that’s what it took.  “The ‘troopers have  _ not _ been brought into the First Order to be playthings.  They are soldiers, and should be respected as such.”

“Kark it, you’re one of  _ those _ ,” she sneers, “an  _ idealist _ .”  The word drips from her mouth like it’s something filthy.  “Let me tell you: it’s best to just grab what you want when you want it, because otherwise you’ll never get anything.”

With the officer distracted, her attention turned on Hux, the ‘trooper tries to squirm away.  The expression on his face reads like he’d rather be anywhere but here,  _ please Force, anywhere else _ .  Unfortunately for him, the movement just draws the officer’s attention back.  She hooks a leg around one of his, her hand leaving his breastplate to strike him across the face.  The hapless ‘trooper tumbles to the floor with a clatter of plasteel plates.

“That’s enough!”  Hux strides forward, forcing her face first into the wall and twisting one arm tight up between her scapula as she tries to struggle.  “You disgrace that uniform, Warrant Officer.”

For the first time, it seems to occur to her that the person she’s been arguing with might outrank her.  She stills where he has her pinned to the wall.  Only her head turns as she seeks the identity of her opponent.  When she sees Hux, her entire demeanour shifts again.  An unexpectedly vicious shove away from the wall sends him stumbling back, but with his grip firm on her arm, she cries out as it’s forced in directions that it shouldn’t bend.

Of course, it’s this scene that Kylo finds, just as the officer begins to shout at Hux.

“What do you think you’re doing,  _ General _ , talking like you mean something?”

Hux flinches back from her venomous tone, releasing her arm as it strikes home.  It calls up memories he’d rather forget.  Things he’d hoped to have buried far in the past.  Though never far enough, obviously.

As with any member of the First Order, she’s adept in sensing weakness.  “We all know about your grand failure with  _ Starkiller _ , Snoke was right-”

Her words and her air are cut off with Kylo’s clenched fist.  “I don’t think you have the right,  _ Warrant Officer _ , to speak of my Master so casually.  Nor should you be offering opinions on the punishment passed down to General Hux.  He is  _ mine _ , so have a care how you speak of him.”

Redfaced and gasping, she nods frantically in agreement until he releases the Force hold on her throat.  Dignity abandoned, she collapses to the floor, holding her throat as she gulps down air.

Emotions in turmoil, Hux merely stares at the scene, blank.  He hadn’t considered how it would feel to have the Knight claim him in public.  But before he has a chance to process it, Ren is turning to him.

“What exactly happened here?”

“I heard a commotion, and turned to see what it was.  She was trying to rape this ‘trooper,” Hux sums it up succinctly.

Two pairs of eyes turn to the ‘trooper.  He shrinks away from who he’s still conditioned to see as the  _ two _ highest ranking members of the Order, clearly having hoped he’d been forgotten.  Part of Hux makes a note to put a commendation in his file, because he’s been clever enough to retrieve his helmet in the interim.  The ‘trooper puts it back on in a hurry, a turtle retreating to his shell.

“So?” Ren demands, clearly fuming.  “It’s just a ‘trooper.”

“It’s an abuse of a valuable resource!  ‘Troopers aren’t meant to be fuck toys for anyone who fancies getting a leg over.  Not to mention, both the ‘trooper and officer are likely meant to be on duty.”  Hux rarely resorts to profanity, but the ‘trooper being expected to roll over and service the her rings a little too close to his own situation. 

“Was any part of this  _ your _ idea?” Ren turns on the ‘trooper.

_ “Of course not, buckethead,” _ Hux sneers mentally at Kylo.  “ _ That’s why I used the word  _ ‘rape’.”

“N-n-no, sir,” the quivering ‘trooper stammers.  “I just want to get back - get back to my patrol, sir.”  He takes a deep breath and visibly steadies himself before snapping off a proper salute. Hux returns it reflexively. 

Ren growls and pulls the saber from his belt.  The crackling snap-hiss of its ignition produces a rich crimson blade, far more stable than Hux had ever seen his weapon produce.  For the first time, he has the opportunity to observe that this is an entirely different weapon.  The crossguard vents Ren’s previous saber required are gone.  Both ‘trooper and officer cower away from the glowing blade, but Hux stands his ground.  Even if he knows it’s him Ren is furious with, he’s not about to give Ren that satisfaction.

Not even when that flickering blade swings to point at his throat.

“I thought I made it clear you were to appear as an obedient slave in public,” Ren hisses.  “Not to go ordering people around like you’re still a General!”

Hux feels his temper spark.  “I’m sorry that my preventing an abuse of resources is such an  _ inconvenience _ to you,” he spits back.  Movement in the corner of his eye catches his attention before he can continue.

The Warrant Officer is sitting up, watching the confrontation with avid interest.  Hux can almost see the calculations flickering behind her grey eyes.  The instinct to remember any sort of information that might gain her advantage.  It’s like the clink of chains.  The sure knowledge that if he pushes Ren too far…

For once, Hux is the first to back down.  “I apologize, Master Ren, you’re correct.  I should not have intervened, my only excuse is long dedication to the First Order and ensuring proper discipline is adhered to by all.  It won’t happen again.”

When his words register with Ren, it’s not quite the immediate look of victory he might have expected of their adversarial co-command.  At first, Ren merely looks startled, but Hux thinks he catches a flicker of disappointment.  It’s lightning quick, if it’s there at all, almost lost in the red glare of Ren’s lightsaber.  When Ren hits the trigger to turn the saber back to a mere hilt, his expression melts into the self-satisfied smugness Hux had expected all along.

“I knew you could be reasonable.”

The words have Hux biting his tongue to stifle a retort about the unlikelihood of Ren  _ possibly _ knowing what ‘reasonable’ looks like.  With the knowledge that he’ll bite his tongue clean off if he keeps resorting to that method, Hux does something he hoped to never have to do again after the Academy, safe at last from the hands of his father.  Long ago, he’d carved out a space in his own mind.  An obedient shell with his likeness that follows orders and takes abuse, mental barriers holding strong to shield his true heart from pain and cruelty.

It’s an easier transition to make than he might have hoped. 

“Thank you, Master Ren.”  His lips shape the words, but his mind floats free.  Hux doesn’t feel the shame that would otherwise burn through him at bowing to threats.

The core of him registers Ren’s startled flinch at his abrupt change in manner, but the surface remains blank.  At least Ren for once has sorted his priorities.  The Knight waves the officer to her feet.

“I think it would be best if you forgot this incident,” Ren states casually, hand hovering near her temple.  “Some hallways were off limits for sanitation, so you took a longer than normal route to your destination.  And you will never interfere with a Stormtrooper again.”

The officer repeats the words in the same blank tone Hux has heard from some prisoners after Ren has finished interrogation, before turning and heading off as if the rest of them aren’t even present.  Ren turns to the ‘trooper to do the same, but the ‘trooper seems to have found his courage.

“Please, sir, may I keep my memory?  I promise I won’t repeat what I’ve seen, not even to my unit, sir.”

Ren tilts his head in the gesture of confusion that looks much less menacing with the expression also painted across his boyish face.  “I suppose.  I can sense your honesty.  But why?”

“Because I want to know that someone really would stand up for a ‘trooper.”  He flinches, as if merely admitting this is grounds for reconditioning.  “Things aren’t good on this ship.  I heard General Hux wouldn’t let anyone mess with his ‘troopers.  I’m glad to know it’s true.”

“Very well.  Keep your memories.”  Ren takes a step closer to the ‘trooper, looming over him menacingly as he drops his voice dramatically.  “But if you ever share this information with anyone, _I will know_.”  He keeps the threat of punishment implied, far more effective for a Force wizard when speaking to a ‘trooper who only has rumours of his abilities.

The ‘trooper is shaking as he snaps out another salute.  “Of course, sir.  Thank you, sir.”  This second ‘sir’ is addressed to Hux, something for him to consider later when he allows himself to surface.

Once the ‘trooper has double-timed it down the hallway, Kylo turns back to Hux.  There’s something soft and puzzled about his face as he studies Hux, but Hux remains at silent attention.  It’s never safe in public to reemerge.

“Hux?” his deep voice is almost gentle, questioning.

“Yes, Master Ren?”

“What are you - no, this isn’t the place.”  With that, Ren turns and strides off - unbelievably, towards the training rooms.

But it’s fine, really.  Hux is long practiced at going through physical training without truly processing any of it.  He allows himself to drift as his body cycles through the repetitive routine drilled into him since he was four years old.  Exercises and reps have been added, but the Commandant had never seen fit to remove any of it.  In all, it takes him perhaps two hours to cycle through the full thing.  Habit forces him to note his declining fitness, particularly in his upper body, and plan to make up for his deficiencies with more exercise on his own time.

If any of the others in the training room stared as the former General pushed through exercises and weights mechanically, moving in ways they never thought he could, Hux pays no mind.

Habit, again, is what takes him to the sonics.  He hits the button for the ‘clothes’ cycle, waiting for it to complete and cleanse the sweat from fabric before stripping down and repeating the process for his skin.  It’s quick and efficient, though he’s aware of Ren’s eyes watching him with some emotion he can’t define, rather than doing the same himself.

Dressing once more in newly crisp clothing, Hux turns to Ren for further instruction.  Without a word, Ren gestures Hux to follow.  He’s clearly trying to hide his disconcerted expression.  But without his helmet, Ren is truly terrible at masking any emotions that cross his mobile face.  Hux follows in silence all the way back to Ren’s quarters.

Almost as soon as the door closes behind Hux, Ren whirls around and demands, “stop whatever you’ve done to your mind, and never do it again!”

Hux feels pressure against his mental walls as Ren continues.

“What did you - your Force presence is making my skin crawl.  What did you do?  You almost feel like a fucking  _ droid _ in the Force.”

Feeling anger well up with Ren’s demands, Hux abruptly stops forcing himself down.  His true self boils back to the forefront, carried on a wave of disgust and rage, strong emotions making the transition easier than it had ever been.  “Never do it again?  I don’t think you understand what you’ve asked of me, Ren.”  He lashes out, shoving Ren forcefully enough that he stumbles, almost falling over the back of the couch.

“What - what do you mean?”  Ren’s expression has Hux barking out a harsh laugh, it’s so comically surprised.

“I  _ mean _ that you’ve asked me to play meek in public, not to comment on any of the idiocies I see perpetuated around me.  Do you think that’s simple?”  

Ren shakes his head dumbly, full mouth slack with confusion.

“Exactly.  It might have been easier if you wouldn’t allow me to be myself here, but switching back and forth…  I’m a  _ General _ , Ren.  Unless I shut myself away, well…  I’d bite my tongue bloody, and probably still wind up saying something even  _ you _ couldn’t erase.”  Not to mention drive himself mad. 

With the hint of a goofy grin that Hux supposes is from his acknowledgement of Ren’s skill with the Force, the Knight perches on the arm of his couch.  “But what exactly did you  _ do? _ ”

“I -”  Hux struggles for words.  He hasn’t exactly had to describe what he does before.  His father is the only one who might have been curious enough to ask, and all he cared for was Hux’s exacting obedience.  “You might say that I shut ‘myself’ away.  If I take away all the parts of me that care, it’s easy to follow orders.”

“I thought you were all about following orders,” Ren teases.  But he’s misjudged Hux’s mood.  Just because explaining himself had made Hux more thoughtful, it doesn’t mean the fury has dissipated in the slightest.

“ _ You _ are not supposed to be the one issuing orders to _ me _ ,” Hux snarls.  “And now I have to pretend like this punishment is in  _ any _ way just.  Act like a fucking cowering  _ slave _ unless I want to be ripped apart.

“Oh yes, Ren, I  _ love _ following orders.  I had  _ earned  _ my place as a General, Force take you.  Brought more victories to the First Order than any other commander, and saved more than a few operations from the incompetence of others.”

Ren stiffens.  “I hope you’re not implying that my Master has poor judgement,” he cautions.

Hux knows better than to go there, even in his anger.  “Perhaps not so much poor judgement as a tendency of playing favourites.  I  _ did _ my job on  _ Starkiller _ .  Where were you?  Off playing lone hero instead of doing anything to stop the scavenger  _ you _ brought onto base, or defusing the bombs  _ your father… _ ”

At the words ‘your father’, Ren surges off the couch and reaches for Hux’s throat, but Hux catches his wrist in an iron grip.  “ _ How dare you, _ ” Ren hisses, right in Hux’s face.

“I dare,” Hux replies with icy calm, “because your childish preoccupations allowed the destruction of the First Order’s greatest resource.  Had even  _ half  _ of those explosives failed to detonate, the oscillator would have remained impregnable.  The weapon would have fired, and the Resistance would no longer be a problem.  Because  _ you _ allowed  _ your _ personal interests to interfere with orders from Supreme Leader Snoke, we’re no closer to ending the pathetic Resistance.

“And  _ you _ are now considered our greatest weapon,” Hux adds with contempt, “which I suppose is the reason why I’m paying the price for your lapses in judgement.”

As Hux speaks, Ren sort of deflates, his arm going limp in Hux’s grasp.  “It - it wasn’t my fault.  My Master told me that ending Han Solo’s existence would make me stronger.”

Hux uses his hold to shove Ren backwards over the couch, hovering over him as he lies vulnerably on the flat surface.  He allows Ren’s arm to flop boneless to hang above the floor, catching Ren around the throat.

Leaning down, his tone deadly soft, he asks, “and did it?  Was it worth allowing  _ Starkiller _ to be destroyed merely to kill one old man?”

The Knight looks afraid of Hux for the first time.  “No.  No - I spent my whole training trying to overcome the weakness that his death left me with.”

“So why in the name of Palpatine’s hoary ghost am _ I _ the one paying the price?” Hux shouts into his face, feeling hot tears prick at his eyes.

Eyes growing wide, Kylo wiggles under Hux in distress.  “No, Hux, don’t cry!  I’m sorry I made you sad.”

“I’m not sad, you imbecile.  I’m furious,” Hux spits like an angry cat.  How the hell did Kylo get the idea that Hux would  _ ever _ cry because of sorrow?  He’s disgusted that his emotions have gotten the better of him.  It’s only because he hasn’t pushed himself away like that in years, he reasons.  Obviously it’s only natural that his emotional state would be unbalanced from the abrupt shift.

“Then why are you crying?” Kylo asks.

Hux tightens his grip, something coiling through him at the sight of  _ Kylo _ being the one struggling to breathe.  “I’m not crying!  I’m so angry it’s making my eyes water.”

Unbelievably, Kylo’s arms reach up like the enormous idiot is going to try to  _ hug _ him.  “It’s alright, Hux.  Snoke showed me that emotions have power, you don’t have to suppress them.  That’s the  _ Jedi _ way.  Let yourself cry.”

Slapping away Kylo’s hands, Hux stares down at him incredulously.  “It’s the way of anyone who doesn’t want to look ridiculous in public.  No wonder you wore that absurd bucket.”  He wonders if Kylo was actually  _ sobbing _ every time he slashed up parts of Hux’s ship.

The turn in their conversation has Hux’s anger and resentment ebbing back to their normal levels.  With a sigh, he allows himself to collapse down on Kylo’s prone form.  It’s difficult to argue with a man who looks like a kicked lothcat.  And, as Hux forces himself to remember, pushing Kylo too far can only end badly.

“...Are - are you really aroused?   _ Now? _ ” Hux demands, confused and fascinated.

Kylo shifts, trying to move his erection but only succeeding in digging it against Hux.  “No…” he tries to deny.

“Kylo, I can feel that,” Hux points out dryly.

“It wasn’t the arguing!” Kylo insists, voice going reedy.  “It’s - your hand.”

“This hand?” Hux purrs, squeezing Ren’s neck a little harder.

He nods frantically, choking a little on his answer.  “Yes.”

“Hmm.”  Perhaps there’s a way for Hux to vent a little of his frustration after all.  That coiling in his gut is back, pleasure at having Ren at his mercy.  And a touch of sick enjoyment at seeing the powerful Force user struggle in the way so many of his victims have.  He wiggles a little, relishing Kylo’s high whimper.

“And what should I do about this  _ problem _ you seem to have?”

“Plea-se,” the word stutters with Hux’s grip.

“Please...what?”

“Please, Hux, I want you.”

“You want me to fuck you?  Use you?”

Kylo nods frantically, amber eyes pleading.

“Do you want me to choke you?  Take my pleasure from you while you struggle for air?”

“Force,  _ yes _ ,” Kylo gasps.  “Fuck me hard, Hux.”

Hux shoves himself back to his feet, drawing up to his full height to stand over Kylo.  Taking his time to eye the other man where he lies, panting and already dishevelled, Hux can feel a sharp grin pulling at his mouth as Kylo squirms under his scrutiny.  “Come here, on your knees,” he orders.

Full lips part as Kylo groans.  Uncharacteristically graceless, he rolls from the couch onto his hands and knees.

Hux feels his cock twitch as it fills out, as Kylo turns around and crawls the short distance, sitting on his haunches at Hux’s feet.  Wordlessly, Hux unfastens the drawstring, and tugs his athletic pants and underwear down to bare his cock.  He hooks his thumbs into the waistband to keep them in place, the placement contrived to frame his groin.

Amber eyes watch his every move.  When Hux does nothing more than stand there, waiting, Ren looks up questioningly.  It’s more than a little gratifying to have his ‘owner’ at his feet.  Curious, Hux waits to see what Kylo will do.

Though Kylo seems to be waiting for instruction.  He’s hesitant when he leans forward to take Hux’s cock in his mouth, licking tentatively at the head.

“Well, get on with it,” Hux demands, canting his hips forward aggressively.

It’s astounding how much confidence he can read in Kylo’s eyes as soon as he has orders to follow.  No longer hesitant, Kylo swallows Hux’s cock down to the root.  Though he had only been at half-mast, Hux can feel himself pulse and harden under Kylo’s eager attentions.

One hand releases the waistband of his pants, Hux instead threading his fingers through Kylo’s thick hair.  A fierce grin sharpens his face as he fists his hand around the hair in his grip and holds Kylo down on his cock.  Hux’s head tips back on a groan as Kylo’s throat contracts around his length.  He keeps Kylo’s nose buried in his groin until he’s genuinely concerned about the other man’s need for air.

When he looks down, Kylo is red faced and gasping, amber eyes glassy.  “Good boy,” Hux rakes his fingers through wavy black hair.  He doesn’t give Kylo a chance to recover.  “I don’t want to come before I bury myself in your tight ass.  Strip.  Get on the bed.”

Kylo almost trips over himself in his haste to comply.  Hux watches, ambling in his wake, as Kylo leaves a trail of discarded clothing all the way to his bed.  It seems like only his use of the Force allowing him to remove his boots without stumbling.

Hux watches with interest as Kylo flushes and squirms under his examination.  The Knight has a few new scars, but most of his injuries from his training are faint discolourations or flaking scabs.  Though thinner, his musculature is still impressive (a lesser man than Hux might say ‘intimidating’).

Taking his time, Hux grasps the hem of his tank, peeling it up inch by inch.  He enjoys watching the lust in Kylo’s dark eyes as he slowly strips off.  But watching the other man’s face isn’t what he wants.  Not tonight.

Long fingers gesture at Kylo.  “Turn over.  Hands and knees.” 

As Kylo does so, Hux realizes he’s forgotten something.  A quick duck into the fresher nets him a pair of towels, one spread below Kylo.  The lube is easily retrieved from the nightstand.

“Ready?” Hux asks even as he’s slipping the first lubed finger into Kylo.

The dark head drops between Kylo’s arms with a whimper.  His back arches, pushing himself further onto Hux’s finger.  Already, sweat beads along his spine.

Part of Hux wants to be tender with him.  But more enthralling is having Kylo so utterly undone and at his mercy from something so simple.  “You like this?  Like feeling me open you up for my cock?”

“Fuck, Hux,” Ren groans, voice thick.  His head falls down to his crossed arms.  “How do you always do this to me?”

Twisting his finger in Kylo’s hole, watching the muscle flex under pressure, Hux chuckles.  “You mean the Force can’t tell you?  Perhaps it doesn’t make you as omniscient as you’d like to pretend.  Or  _ maybe _ you just like being under my control.”

He’s not certain if the ensuing high whine is from that suggestion, or from his decision that Kylo is stretched enough for a second finger.  “Good boy, opening up so easily for me.  You just can’t wait to be fucked, can you?”

“Hux, please,” Kylo begs.  “I need you inside me.”

Already impatient, Hux takes that as consent.  He’s not exactly careful when he pulls his fingers out of Kylo, but Hux knows he can take it.  Roughly, he slicks up his aching cock.  “Do you need me to fill up that needy hole?” Hux asks, voice husky.

Kylo moans in response.  “Force, yes.”

Grabbing Kylo’s hips in a bruising grip, Hux lines up to push in.  It’s difficult at first, two fingers barely enough for Hux’s girth.  But he pushes harder, forcing Kylo to open and swallow him in one long thrust until he’s buried in that clenching heat.  Kylo’s whimper only spurs him on.

“Going to fuck you hard,” Hux grunts, suiting action to his words, barely giving Kylo any time to adjust.

Far from complaining, Kylo uses his whole body to rock back into the punishing thrusts.  “Oh, Force,” he groans out on breaths that stutter with the rhythm of Hux pounding into his tight hole.  “Need - oh fuck - need it there…”

Hux ignores Kylo’s attempts to get him to hit his prostate.  He’s barely aware of the other man as he uses him.  Rather, his thoughts linger on the anger and resentment simmering under his skin.   _ “Fucking incompetent nerf-herders left in charge…  How dare they ignore the instructions I left behind?  They’re going to lose this whole campaign because of their arrogance.  If only Starkiller...we should have known the Resistance wouldn’t let it fire a second time.  ‘Those who ignore the lessons of history are doomed to repeat it.’  But even if I had reconsidered using Starkiller, Snoke wouldn’t have.  Not even his pet Kylo could sway him.  Sith damn Kylo, anyways.  It’s his fucking fault I’m stuck as a slave…”  _

Kylo’s moan draws his attention back.  “Hux, please... fuck.”  He trails off as Hux pounds into him harder, but tries to reach down to fist his own cock.

“None of that now.”  Hux catches both Kylo’s wrists, pulling them behind his back and wrapping them in the long fingers of one hand.  “Maybe you’ll be lucky enough to come on my cock.”

Face mashed into the pillow without his hands to support him, Kylo’s response is a muffled series of grunts.

Chuckling, Hux takes pity on him.  His other hand wraps around Kylo’s throat and pulls him back to sit on his cock.  The shift in position has Kylo moaning when it drives Hux even deeper into him.  “Or maybe, if you please me enough, I’ll jerk you off.  Feel you come around me as my come drips out of your used hole.  Would you like that, Kylo?”

His eager “please” is strangled by the hand gently constricting his breath.

“Get to it then,” Hux teases, stilling his hips.  If Kylo wants to get off today, he’s got to work for it.

Powerful thighs flex as Kylo starts to bounce himself on Hux’s cock.  Each movement has him clenching around Hux, driving him ever closer to the edge.  Under Hux’s grip, he can feel Kylo’s throat rasp as he struggles to draw in a full breath.

Pleased, Hux pushes with the hand around Kylo’s wrists as he pulls down and back with the one wrapped around that pale throat.  It forces Kylo into a beautiful arch, surrendering to Hux’s control over his body.  Thick dark hair spills over Hux’s freckled back from where Kylo’s head rests on his shoulder.

“Hux, Hux, Hux,” Kylo chants, throat clicking under Hux’s hand.  He’s struggling now, barely able to rock back onto the cock buried in him, whining as it continually brushes that bundle of nerves that has his legs shaking.

At last Hux allows himself to show how Kylo’s affecting him.  “You feel so good around me,” he pants as he thrusts into the willing body above him, “so tight and responsive.  Fuck, Kylo…”  His words are drawn out on a groan, as he spills into Kylo at last.

When the last of the aftershocks stop shaking his body, Hux considers the trembling form of Kylo.  “Do you think you’ve been good for me?  Do you think you deserve to come?  You weren’t able to get me off, after all.  I had to do all the work.”

“I - I wanted to be good,” Kylo stammers.  “I don’t know if I deserve...but please.  Please please, I need…”

“Fuck, you sound so good pleading for me,” Hux breathes into Kylo’s ear.  “Keep your hands where I put them, alright?”

Kylo nods frantically.

“Good boy.”  Hux releases his hold on Kylo’s wrists in favour of grasping his cock.  

Kylo bucks into his touch, groaning deep in his chest.  The vibrations where Hux is still buried inside set off another aftershock, spasms drawing his grip tighter around Kylo’s throat and flushed length.

Sated, Hux takes his time teasing Kylo.  The gathered precome slicks his way as he toys with Kylo’s foreskin, pushing it back over the head as Hux’s index finger pushes just a little into the slit.  He then experiments to see how far down he can pull it before Kylo whimpers in pain.  Releasing Kylo’s cock entirely, Hux’s fingers drift down to tug lightly at Kylo’s balls.

“These are so tight already.  You’re close, aren’t you?  Just a few strokes of that prick and you’ll be spilling yourself everywhere.”

“Yes,” Kylo croaks.  “Please, General.”

Hux wishes he could get hard again so soon.  Having Kylo moan his former title like that, too far gone to be an attempt to manipulate him…  He’d pound him into the mattress until all Kylo could say was ‘please’ and ‘General’.

Instead, Hux contents himself with holding the man close to the edge, but not giving him enough to come.  Rolling Kylo’s balls in his hand, Hux presses his thumb to that little soft patch of skin behind.  Long fingers tease up Kylo’s shaft.  He rubs the pad of his thumb through the leaking slick at the head of Kylo’s cock.  Only when Kylo is sobbing in need does Hux take a firm grip.

A half dozen pumps of his cock and Kylo is arching his back with a choked scream.  Hux releases his grip on his neck, allowing air to flood into Kylo’s lungs at last.  The sudden oxygen saturation creates euphoria, Kylo shuddering apart around where Hux is still buried inside until he’s limp and helpless in Hux’s arms.

And then Hux pushes Ren forward, to drop boneless into his own mess.  “Better clean yourself up,” he advises over his shoulder as he strolls to the refresher.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren objects to the exchange between he and Hux the day before. And a certain Admiral sees an opportunity to avenge old resentments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the long delay in updating this fic. I hope to make updates more regularly again. Thanks to [brawlite](http://archiveofourown.org/users/brawlite/pseuds/brawlite) for the awesome beta.

Turning from the counter to allow his morning cup of tea to steep, Hux only has a moment to process the glower on Kylo’s face as he strides from the bedroom before a powerful Force compulsion takes hold.  A static charge, the premonition before lightning strikes - and the only way to avoid it is to obey.

“ _ On your knees, _ ” Ren snarls.

It’s been a long time since Ren tried to Force him to do anything.  Hux’s initial instinct is to resist the command with every fiber of his being (as he has in the past, resulting in damage to various parts of the  _ Finalizer _ ), but a heavy swallow reminds him of his collar and of his new place.  Sinking to his knees reluctantly, Hux bows his head slightly to show his willingness to comply.  And to hide the expression of distaste he struggles to conceal.  He can hardly think of anything he’s done to earn Ren’s ire while they were  _ sleeping _ .

“What can I do for you, Master Ren?” Hux asks as Ren’s feet come to a halt, uncomfortably close.  Close enough that when he gazes up through his lashes, he can only see the drawstring of the exercise pants Ren has thrown on.  Absently, he wonders if sucking Ren’s cock would serve to distract him from whatever he’s angry about now.

_ Stars _ , he hopes Ren didn’t pick up that stray thought.

“You know what you’ve done.”

Obviously not.  Hux snaps his head up to meet Ren’s eyes.  “What I’ve done?  ...did you not want to have sex after all?”

“No!” Ren shouts.  Hux knows his confusion is written in his eyes, which is probably the only reason that the hand Ren winds around his throat doesn’t immediately squeeze.  “You should know, General, what comes of criticizing my Master.”

Shoving down the flush of pleasure that comes from Ren unconsciously using his former rank, Hux searches his memory for what Ren could mean.  “When I said I’d earned my place as General?”

The increased pressure on his windpipe has Hux swallowing hard.

“Think harder, Hux.”

Try as he might, Hux can’t think of what Ren might be referring to.  Unless it was an absent thought, rather than something he’d voiced.

When he says as much to Ren, the other man’s emphatic gesture of frustration sends him sprawling.

“You tricked me into agreeing that killing Han Solo was useless!  My Master is wiser than either of us, I simply have not been strong enough to discover the true purpose of his command.  Questioning him is treasonous, and you should be careful before you think to do so again,” Ren snarls, voice low and deadly.

Hux stays where Ren’s accidental shove has landed him.  It feels very much like showing his belly in submission to a feral beast, but he’s aware he’s walking a razor thin line of Ren’s tolerance.  Placating, he holds his hands up in surrender.  “I swear, Ren, there was no plan to trick you.  And I never intended to criticize the Supreme Leader.”

“Then why,” Ren pads closer, placing his foot over Hux’s sternum, “did you ask what I gained by killing Han Solo.”  His flat tone holds as much calculated menace as his posture.

Even with the threat, Hux can’t entirely restrain his frustration.  “Because you could have defused the explosives  _ before _ you went after the old man.  If you’d simply had a sense of priorities, we could have ended the Resistance that day, and I wouldn’t be stuck as your kriffing _ slave _ !”

Wilting, Hux knows not all the constriction in his chest is caused by the pressure on his sternum.  Quietly, reluctantly, he admits, “and I  _ loathe _ that I truly am grateful to belong to you.  It could have been so much worse.”

That admission has Kylo’s face softening.  Removing his foot, he offers Hux a hand to his feet.  “I should have known you wouldn’t speak against the Supreme Leader.”  But a second later, the expression on Ren’s face sends a chill down Hux’s spine.  “However,” he says, pausing in his odd way, “you should be very careful how you speak of my Master.  He accesses my mind as he wills, paying particular attention to any mention of himself.”

Before Hux can respond, Ren’s communicator calls his attention away.  Though frozen in the anteroom, he can clearly hear the Lieutenant on the other end.  “Master Ren, sir, the Supreme Leader has summoned you to his audience chamber.”

The timing has Hux absolutely paralyzed.  Has Snoke’s attention been drawn to what Ren considered treasonous words?  Even as Ren brushes past him, dressed now in his robes and mask, Hux remains trapped in turning over his possible fate.

“ _ Please, no, _ ” his own desperate whisper breaks his frozen immobility.  Numbly, Hux retrieves the tea which he’d almost forgotten on the counter.  Even more bitter than he usually drinks it, he sits on the sofa and sips simply for something to do.  There’s nothing left but cold dregs by the time Ren returns.

Hux startles to his feet when the door slides open.  “Ren, I…”

What he’s going to say, even Hux doesn’t know.  But he’s not given a chance to find out.

“Master received news of smugglers stumbling over the remains of a possible Sith temple on Saijo.  He has tasked me with investigating the ruins, and retrieving any artefacts that remain.  I will return in two weeks,” Ren says as soon as he removes his helmet.  He runs a hand through his tousled hair as he surveys the room.  “I’m not certain who to speak to now…” he mutters.

Faced with a duracrete problem to solve, Hux’s mind automatically prioritizes it over his earlier concerns, though Hux knows they’ll eat at him later.  “I’m not certain who the Admiral would have tasked with making preparations for you.  Though the obvious person to ask would be the quartermaster for the  _ Oblivion _ .”

“I didn’t even know the First Order _ had _ quartermasters,” Kylo says, dropping on to the sofa next to Hux.

Hux snorts.  “You don’t exactly pay attention to the organization of the Order, Ren.  With the sheer size of each Star Destroyer, they all need someone to keep track of provisioning.  I believe the quartermaster for this ship is WO R’dell.”

“Why did I never speak to the quartermaster for the  _ Finalizer _ ?” Kylo asks, obviously curious.

“Within the first two weeks of your stationing on my ship, you’d tossed a ‘trooper Sergeant into a wall for reporting a scheduling change to you,” Hux responds dryly.  “I decided to personally oversee your needs so you wouldn’t incapacitate any of my central staff.”

“Ah.”  Ren pauses for a long moment.  “So how would I get in contact with the WO?  Because my Master has commanded that I leave as soon as possible.”

Sighing, Hux stands to retrieve Ren’s datapad.  “What do you need?”  He’s already pulling up the messaging system to send an urgent communication, prepared to imitate Ren’s tendency to make peremptory demands.

“My - wait, was my shuttle transferred from the  _ Finalizer _ ?”

Long fingers fly over the surface of the datapad, pulling up the current inventory of smaller craft in the  _ Oblivion _ ’s hangar bays.  “Let’s see - yes, one modified  _ Upsilon _ -class shuttle located in Bay N-1.  Shall I notify your usual crew to join you?” Hux asks absently, already putting in the order to have it fuelled and re-stocked for departure.  Including a fully sized medkit.

“No, no crew.  The planet should be uninhabited, and my Master doesn’t want the location of the ruins known.  I would hate to be forced to eliminate them.”

Hux struggles to suppress his snort of disbelief, but he’s aware that Ren’s crew are among the few members of the Order Ren actually values.  “Will you require any specialized equipment?”

Ren’s head tilts as he considers this.  “Just rations for two weeks, camping gear, and a heavy coat.  I might wind up spending most of that time in the mountains.”

From there, it’s quick work for Hux to forward Kylo’s requests to WO R’dell.  He adds an extra week of MREs to Kylo’s provisions, knowing his tendency to take longer on missions than scheduled.  Once a confirmation is received that everything will be ready within the hour, Ren leaves without a second glance.

____________________

Even after Ren’s departure, Hux can’t help feeling unsettled.  Or perhaps his unease is  _ because _ of Ren’s departure.  Now, Hux doesn’t even have Ren as a hulking distraction from the fact that Hux has been rendered entirely impotent.  With a sigh, Hux lays down next to the enormous viewport.  Whatever miniscule amount of free time he had in his life before, looking at the stars was a favourite way to spend it.  Imagining all the other worlds in the galaxy that the Order would bring under their banner.  Sometimes the stars felt almost close enough to touch.

Stretching out a hand now, Hux has never felt so distant from that dream.

Less than a year ago, the weapon he had overseen swallowed two stars.  Hux had watched as their light went out, repurposed to carve the galaxy into its new shape.  Really, he’s been lost since  _ Starkiller _ became a star itself.  Unconsciously, his hand closes into a fist, empty.

With a suddenness that surprises him, Hux pounds his fist into the floor.  Lying there, cold from the durasteel plates seeping into his thin body, Hux wonders what the point of any of it has been.  

He’s not sure how long he’s been drifting when the view warps, splintering like the transparisteel might just shatter.  Hux closes his eyes.  If this is his end, he’s resigned to it.  As his eyes close however, there’s a cold trail making its way down his cheek.  Hand rising to swipe it away, Hux realizes that it was the sight of the viewport refracted through his tears that had caused the image to warp.  It’s been so long since he allowed himself to cry, he’d almost forgotten the sensation.

____________________

Two weeks after Ren’s departure, during another day of staring at the console screen to put together strategies that will inevitably be rejected, Hux’s head jerks up in alarm when he hears the ringing of a number of boots on durasteel.  This is a seldom frequented corridor.  And it’s unlikely Ren would return leading a squad of ‘troopers to his own room.

Instincts from the Academy reassert themselves.  If  _ they _ come for you, be waiting.  Hux quickly tabs the console display off, tidying Ren’s desk so it looks unused.  He almost stands at attention before the door until the cuffs on his wrists call to mind his new station.  Reluctantly, he sinks to kneel out of the way of anyone entering, head bowed and hands folded neatly in his lap.  When the override is keyed in, he keeps his gaze on the floor.  Three pairs of shiny leather boots tell him this is nothing good.  Stormtrooper white file in behind them.

“If that imbecile Ren thinks he can just destroy my ship with impunity, I’ll show him he has another thing coming,” the nasal voice of Admiral Woyzec fumes.  Part of Hux sympathizes with him, but the rest stills in anticipation of this retribution.

“Get him up.”

Two ‘troopers gently pull an unresisting Hux to his feet.  Through his mind runs the mantra he had developed at the Academy:  _ “Don’t resist.  Don’t meet their eyes.  If you don't resist and don't react, it will be over sooner.” _

“Sir!”  One of the ‘troopers speaks.  “We can’t find the mechanism for his shackles.”

“Use regular binders then.”

Arms cuffed before him, Hux is pulled down to one of the hangars where a flogging post has already been erected.  His escort quickly removes the binders, cuffing him to the post instead.  The shirt he wears is perfunctorily torn down the middle, exposing his back for the impending lash.

Hux can feel himself sinking into the place he’d found a long time ago, the place where pain doesn’t matter, even before he hears the swish of the whip through the air.  But before the first blow can land…

“What do you think you’re doing, Admiral?” Kylo Ren’s voice, harsh from the vocoder, snaps through the large space.

Shamed by the flush of relief at Kylo’s voice, Hux reminds himself he’s not safe yet.  (Hux has never been safe, never will _ be _ safe.)

“I thought I told you there would be  _ consequences _ should anyone lay a hand on what is mine,” Kylo stalks in to loom half a head over the Admiral.  “And yet here I find you have removed my property from my rooms, and are preparing to whip him.  Where has this sudden burst of foolhardiness come from?”

Even from the corner of his eye, Hux can see the heavy swallow, the way Woyzec’s eyes dart around so they don’t have to meet the vacant sockets of Ren’s mask.  But the man stands his ground this time.

“Actually, it” the Admiral clears his throat and starts again.  “It’s from a very old story I read when I was younger.  At the time the idea infuriated me, but it seems appropriate now.  It contained mention of an ancient tradition in this one kingdom - a whipping boy.  Obviously it would be inappropriate for anyone to lay a hand on the young Prince, but he had to be disciplined somehow.  So they would designate another boy of the same age to be the Prince’s companion and take punishment in his stead.

“As you don’t seem to have any  _ companions _ , I had to make do with your property instead.  Hopefully watching his punishment will make you reconsider the next time you storm off your shuttle and destroy a half-dozen valuable consoles.”

Hearing this, Hux would probably collapse with laughter if it wouldn’t make him look unhinged.  Of course!  If only he’d thought to have himself  _ whipped _ every time Ren destroyed something…  Hux wonders if Woyzec is aware that Ren is  _ actually _ a prince.

“An interesting concept,” Kylo drawls, “but it’s not going to happen.”  A gesture of his hand and the cuffs holding Hux unlatch.  None of the ‘troopers standing nearby make a move to stop him as he walks to take a place just behind Kylo.

Admiral Woyzec sputters in fury, but Ren speaks before he manages to form an actual word.  “I suggest you reconsider your plans, Admiral.  This is your only warning, I will not allow your interference with my slave again.”

Without waiting for a response, Ren strides from the hangar.  Unexpected reprieve granted, Hux is quick to follow at his heels.  But his mind can’t stop churning over potential results of this open confrontation.

Hux sucks in a deep breath as soon as the door to Kylo’s quarters slides shut behind them.  He really doesn’t want to say what he knows he has to.  “Listen, Kylo…”

Instead of paying attention, Kylo stomps across the small space, discarding his helmet as he goes, and smashes his fist into the wall, howling with rage.  Jumping at the unexpected violence, Hux fights the urge to curl into himself, make a smaller target.  He has to get Kylo to  _ hear  _ him.  Somehow.

“Listen to me, Kylo,” Hux demands urgently.  He strides over to catch Kylo’s fist before it can connect with the wall once again.  “No,  _ listen _ .  Admiral Woyzec is a slimy gutter sucking cretin.  He’ll go to Snoke with this, if he hasn’t already.  If Snoke orders you to let him punish me, you can’t let him know you care.”

“What?” Kylo whirls, eyes wounded.  “He’s just another cog in the First Order’s machine, replaceable.  Why would Snoke grant him anything?”

Hux lays a hand on Kylo’s cheek.  “Do you think Snoke would be pleased with the way we are with each other?  He made me a slave as punishment.  If he thinks it’s not…”Hux shudders.  The spectre of the Knights of Ren still hangs over him.  “He’ll let Woyzec hurt me as he wishes because it’s just another facet of my demotion.”

“And if it bothers me too much, my Master might take you away…”

“Precisely.  I’m not certain how much Snoke was paying attention to our private relationship previously -”

“He wasn’t,” Kylo interrupts him to confirm.  “Master Snoke has little use for human desires like sex.  As long as it did nothing to draw me toward the Light, he cared nothing for our physical relationship.”

Hux pinches the bridge of his nose, screwing his eyes shut at the thought of Snoke having a ‘physical relationship’ with anyone.  Or knowing anything about Hux’s sex life.  “Thank you, Kylo.”  Putting those thoughts aside, Hux continues, “I know that my crew still believes that we hate each other, and would never be able to find common ground.  Your Master is likely to be under the same impression, since we were always at odds when speaking to him.  All the...implements he sent with you make it clear that he believed you would be beating me yourself.  So when you object to someone else doing the same, he may decide this isn’t truly punishment for me.

“Object to someone else being allowed to mark up your toy,” Hux says, wincing at this self-description, “but don’t let on that you’d rather not see me hurt.  You would...right?”

Only when Kylo’s hand turns is Hux aware that he’s been holding it, tracing patterns gently around the bruised knuckles.  He lets his own hands fall away as Kylo moves, cupping Hux’s cheek in a warm palm.

“Of course I don’t want to see you come to harm.”  Kylo’s calloused thumb strokes over Hux’s high cheekbone.  “But if my Master commands it, there must be a purpose.”

The warmth that had been growing in Hux turns to ice.  For once he’s cursing his constant calculations and assessment of all possible outcomes.  Evidently some wistful part of himself had still held out hope that Ren would argue Snoke down, that Woyzec would never be allowed to touch him.

Knowing he would show more than he wants if he allows Ren to keep touching him tenderly, Hux pulls away, using the moment to compose his expression into the mask he’s used to wearing.

“Of course,” he agrees, voice flat and calm.

They must have been talking longer than Hux had been aware, because Ren’s comm beeps the next moment with a summons from Snoke.

“The Supreme Leader requests your presence, Master Ren,” the Admiral makes the call himself, smugness bleeding through the comm.  “And bring your slave.”

Before Ren can respond, the connection is cut.  Fortunately Hux anticipates the move, and catches Ren’s arm before he can smash the comm.

“It is as we expected, Ren,” Hux says calmly, “if you smash the comm, it’s another reason for him to take it out on me.”

When Ren hangs his head, sulky, Hux moves to the small chest of drawers.  He strips off his ruined shirt as he goes, shucking pants and underwear after.  Hearing Ren’s quick intake of breath, Hux turns his head to see the other man regarding him with interest.

“Don’t get too excited,” he says, voice dry, “I’m fairly certain Snoke will expect me to be displayed as I was when he gifted me to you.”  Hux’s calm expression sours when he looks inside the drawer where he’d placed all the slave accoutrements.  Reluctantly, he reaches for the cock cage.  The coppery metal snicks shut with a click that Hux can’t help but hear as ominous.  Of all the things Snoke had done to him, somehow taking away the ability to control his own pleasure disgusts him the most.

After that, it’s relatively easy to don a flimsy excuse for a skirt - this one’s panels teal with silver chains.  Hux has to turn to Kylo for the chains to connect the cuffs he wears, attachment points hidden to those without the Force.

Only one step remains.  “I know you hated the feeling, Kylo, but I’m going to shut myself off again.  I hope it will help me convince the Supreme Leader of my obedience as your slave.”

“Very well.”

____________________

Hux is distantly aware that entering the audience chamber is more like walking into the den of a rancor.  One benefit of closing himself off as he has is the ability to dispassionately catalogue everything that goes on around him, while remaining unaffected and obedient.  It’s a large part of the reason why Hux had gained his reputation for knowing everything happening at the Academy.  Many a late night was spent analyzing everything he had observed that day, while most of himself followed orders by rote.

It’s this part of himself that notes the chill up his spine from Snoke’s observation.  Head bowed subserviently, he can still feel the Supreme Leader’s attention on his scarcely clothed form.  Were Hux more himself, it might take effort to force his feet closer to Snoke’s projection.  Instead, he follows demurely at Ren’s heels, sinking to his knees as Ren halts before the throne.

“So, you have returned, Master Ren.”  Snoke’s posture is as casual as his tone.  From the way Ren starts slightly, he wasn’t expecting this opening to the conversation.

“Yes, Master.  I returned mere hours ago; though had other matters not caught my attention, I would have contacted you to make my report.”

Snoke chuckles.  Though it holds genuine amusement, Hux can’t help but compare it to the mirthless laughter of spotted Hapesi jackal-cats after they make a kill.  He’s always expecting to see fangs in Snoke’s smile.  “Well then, we have spared you a call.  What do you have to report?”

“Saijo was empty, Master.  There were no temple remains, either Jedi or Sith.  I spent long days in meditation searching for a concentration of Dark energy, but found nothing.  A final scan of the planet from my shuttle revealed only a natural rock formation, which I suspect the smugglers to have mistaken for a step pyramid.”

“Ah.”  Snoke does nothing more than sigh, but beside Hux, Ren flinches as if struck.  Somehow Snoke’s mild expressions of disappointment convey how lucky one is that he isn’t angrier.  “I had so hoped...well, nevermind.”

“I’m sorry to have disappointed you, Master.”  Ren’s voice wavers as he speaks.

Snoke waves his hand, brushing away Ren’s apologies.  “My dear boy, if there was nothing there, it could not be helped.  It was only a rumour from some smugglers after all.  Is this little disappointment the reason I had Admiral Woyzec complaining to me about you destroying consoles?”

Ren jerks his head up, whole body tensing with outrage.  “I needed some way to bleed off my frustration in failing you.  You’ve encouraged this as an outlet before, Master.”

“Hmm, yes.”  Stroking his chin thoughtfully, Snoke continues, “however, that was before our great loss of resources with  _ Starkiller. _  And the Admiral has every right to be upset with your damage to his ship.”

Hux registers Snoke’s eyes on him as he says this.  Later, he’ll boil with fury that Snoke had never given the same response to his own complaints about Ren’s destructive tendencies.  For now however, he acts as though the connection has failed to register.

Snoke’s attention remains on Hux’s bowed head as he goes on.  “I think the Admiral was inspired in choosing to damage your property, since you show such disregard for the ship he has been entrusted with.  Why do you object so strongly?”

And here is his trap for Ren.  Snoke has been so reasonable and understanding this whole interview, now he’s encouraging Ren to unburden himself.  Hux’s only hope is that Ren had  _ listened _ , for once.

“By your will, Hux is mine!,” Ren retorts, quivering with strong emotion.  “Mine to do with as I will, rather than allow some Admiral to seek out delayed revenge that Hux was promoted over him.  If my slave is to be punished, it should be at my hand, no one else’s.”

“I see.  And yet - I understand why the Admiral seeks compensation.”  Snoke pauses for a long moment.  Hux suspects it’s for effect, that he has already made his decision.  

“Admiral Woyzec will have his ‘whipping boy’,” the Supreme Leader declares at last.  “Should you damage the  _ Oblivion _ , or her crew, he may flog your slave.”

Ren growls, but bows to his Master’s will.  “As you command, Master.  I will not interfere so long as he refrains from permanent damage.”

And that’s it.  Ren and Snoke exchange a few more words about the Force, but Hux’s sentence has been passed.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say 'hi' on tumblr, I'm [thecopperriver](thecopperriver.tumblr.com) there as well.


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